


It is the Grounding of  a Foot Uncompromising

by BeeMeUpScottie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Inquisitor From a Different World, past Inquisitor/Solas sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeeMeUpScottie/pseuds/BeeMeUpScottie
Summary: Ek'olis awakens in a world very different from his own, removed from his home by centuries, and finds himself caught in a whirlwind of disaster. Faced with the daunting task of fixing the world, all he really wants is to go home, and yet an all-too-familiar sense of duty on his shoulders not unlike the weight of the world pushes him to fix the problems right in front of him.





	1. A Dream Turned Harsh Somehow

Ek’olis first became aware of a pounding in his head and a searing pain in his left hand. He did not open his eyes. He breathed deep and slow, trying to calm the racing of his heart, sending magic to try and soothe the pain. It didn’t work. Finally, he opened his eyes and found not a bleeding wound as he expected, but a glaring green light tearing through the skin in the palm of his hand and down his wrist, though parts of it were blocked by a manacle. Why was he in manacles?

He racked his brain and tried to identify what could have happened to put him in this position. He could have easily forced the lock of the manacles with magic, sure, but he didn’t know where he was, and while it would be an easy fight, he didn’t particularly _want_ to fight the owners of the many swords he saw in the corners of his vision. He remembered going to sleep between his partners, and he remembered his consciousness slipping into the Fade.

But his dream had turned harsh somehow, hadn’t it?

His musings were interrupted by approaching footsteps, and he looked up to see a pair of human women enter the room in which he was held, and the one with the short, dark hair approached him.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” she said, her voice carrying an accent Ek’olis couldn’t place. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead, except for you.”

Ek’olis leveled her with an appraising look as he considered her words. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right answer. That was as likely to cause a fight as anything else. Silence wasn’t ideal either, but it gave him more time to eye his apparent would-be captors. He didn’t recognize their armor or ornamentation.

Apparently he took too long to think, and the woman grabbed up his left hand and held it up, taking his right hand with it. “Explain _this_!” she spat.

Ek’olis winced as the mark surged and he took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what it is,” he said, frowning. “Yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘yet?’” She released his hand and eyed him down hard.

“I’m not exactly in a position to study it, am I?” He knew even as he said it that it would upset her, and he didn’t really care, even when she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

Whatever she was about to do, though, she was interrupted by the other woman.

“Cassandra, we need him!” Her accent was only slightly more familiar than Cassandra’s, but her words did make Cassandra release him. She circled around behind him, apparently inspecting him. “Do you remember how all this began?”

Ek’olis scowled and dug into his memory. They didn’t need to know where he actually came from, especially as he still didn’t know where he was - certainly nowhere he knew, which meant he had to be very far from home, indeed. So he dug into what he could remember of his dream and the nightmare it had become.

“I… remember the Fade,” he said, frowning. “Things were chasing me… I’m not sure what, and then there was a light, a… a woman?” His brow furrowed in confusion and he blinked a few times, trying to sort out what he was remembering. It was nothing like how the Fade usually behaved when he dreamed.

Cassandra sighed and shook her head. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift.”

Ek’olis watched the other woman leave, let Cassandra remove his manacles and replace them with rope. He would play along, at least until he knew more about where he was and what he’d gotten into. She led him out of the dungeon they were in and out of… some sort of temple or chapel and the bright light of day stung his eyes. Only, it was brighter than usual. And greener than usual.

“That is…” Ek’olis felt his breath leave him as he stared up at what could only be a massive tear in the Veil. He felt like he was falling into it. “That’s impossible.”

“I assure you it is quite real,” Cassandra said, looking from the rift down to Ek’olis. “We are calling it the Breach. It has opened many more rifts, and it grows larger by the hour.”

“And I assume whatever happened to your conclave caused it?”

Cassandra nodded grimly and scrutinized him as he stared up at the Breach. “Do you really not remember anything?”

Ek’olis made eye contact with her and shook his head. “Not a damn thing,” he said. “But I can probably help you figure out what’s going on here and fix it.” He didn’t flinch when Cassandra’s gaze hardened, but he did struggle to keep his footing when the mark on his hand flared again. With each surge, he was becoming more and more used to the pain of it, but it still surprised him each time. What surprised him more was that Cassandra grabbed him to help him keep his footing.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads,” she said, releasing him once she was sure he was on solid footing again. “And it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“I want to know what this thing is as much as you do, and that thing in the sky threatens this whole world, a world in which _I_ currently live. Much as you have no reason to believe me, I do not want to see that thing destroy us all anymore than you do. I _will_ stop it.”

Cassandra seemed to consider him for a moment, and then she turned and led him away. “Good, then. If you have the skills to backup your confidence, and if you are telling the truth, we shall be glad to have your help.”

Ek’olis followed her through a small town, barely listening as she talked about the people and blame and the hole in the sky. He was more interested in trying to pick out clues about where they were. He didn’t recognize the architecture or the clothing anybody wore, but he thought he recognized the mountains. Then again, mountains were mountains. It wouldn’t be unreasonable that they were someplace he’d never been, just unlikely. How could he have gotten there without waking?

Finally they arrived at a gate and Cassandra stopped and turned to him, took a knife to the ropes that bound his hands.

“Come,” she said. “It is not far.”

“Come where?”

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”

Ek’olis followed her along a path, inspecting the mark on his hand as they went. It utterly _dripped_ with magic, and he had a feeling he was beginning to understand what kind. It was, like the hole in the sky, linked to the Veil in some way. That didn’t surprise him, considering it was clearly linked to the hole in the sky. He finally looked up just in time for the mark to surge again, and it knocked his feet out from under him.

“The pulses are coming faster now.” Cassandra hauled him to his feet and helped brush his shoulders off. “The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

Ek’olis scowled down at the mark on his hand again. He was perturbed by the fact that there was magic he didn’t understand. “Do you know _how_ I survived the blast?” he asked, moving forward once more even as he continued to inspect the mark and its sickly green light.

Cassandra didn’t answer for a moment, but she caught up to him, seemed to consider whether or not to answer, then finally spoke. “They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

 _Temple of Sacred Ashes?_ Ek’olis asked himself. He wasn’t sure whether or not to voice his lack of familiarity with it. It was likely that Cassandra wouldn’t believe him if he did.

Again, his musings were interrupted, this time by _something_ falling from the Breach and shattering the bridge they were crossing. He and Cassandra fell, and by some sweet blessing he landed on his feet, if barely. The good fortune seemed to end there, though. A Shade bubbled up out of the ground nearby, and Cassandra drew her sword, went to fight it, not noticing a second bubble up behind her.

Ek’olis frowned. The staff he usually used wasn’t with him. Of course, he didn’t necessarily _need_ one, but it was nice to have anyway. People underestimated you more if you leaned against a “walking stick.” Instead he threw fire at the Shade in front of him, then more at the Shade accosting Cassandra.

When it fell she turned toward him, still holding her sword at the ready. “I didn’t realize you were a mage.”

“Is that a damning thing to be?” He wondered if magic was to be feared here. That _would_ be a death sentence for him.

Cassandra regarded him for a moment, then put her sword away. “I suppose it is not, as long as you are fighting alongside me and not against me.”

“Then it’s a good thing we share a goal right now.” He watched her for a moment, wondered what she was thinking. He didn’t know how much of himself to be. He didn’t know where he was and he didn’t know what would get him a fight. If he could get out without killing anybody, he’d rather do that. Her face gave him no answers, though, and she turned away, lead him on a new route to their destination.

They faced more demons, and soon they had arrived at a larger fight, one lit by the green glow of a tear in the Veil. Ek’olis took a moment to get the lay of the battle, eyes darting from face to face, creature to creature. Shades and spirits and humans and a dwarf and an elf - an elf with a familiar face. That was odd; he straightened up a little and finally leapt into the fray, throwing fire and ice and lightning with equal measure at the Shades and spirits.

Fighting spirits was like fighting himself. He hated it. But when he reached out to them with his mind, they did not answer. Whatever had torn open the sky was clearly affecting them. He _needed_ to stop it.

With the last demon felled, he looked from the rift to the mark on his hand and had almost reached out to try something when the too-familiar elf took his hand and thrust it toward the rift.

“Quickly, before more come through!” he shouted, and oh, his voice was too-familiar, too. More familiar than his face. That was bad. This was bad. Solas couldn’t be here, looking markedly different than Ek’olis had seen him last. This was impossible and wrong.

He snatched his hand back after the rift was closed and clutched it to his chest with his other hand, staring up at Solas incredulously. “What is… happening here?” he asked, eyes wide with confusion, though not wanting to tear them off Solas.

Solas regarded him for a moment, and Ek’olis could just see gears turning in his head. He wondered how much Solas knew about this world. Had he been pulled here, too? But if he had been, why did he look so _different_? Where was his _hair_? This was all wrong. Ek’olis tried to school his panic into a calm reserve again, but it was difficult, and he was sure Solas could see it.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand,” Solas finally said, apparently deciding that whatever he had seen in Ek’olis wasn’t going to stop him from explaining things. “I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake - and it seems I was correct.”

Ek’olis nodded slowly. “Yes, that… I was coming to that conclusion myself. So it’s likely that this could also close the Breach.” He realized that this was Solas, but not _his_ Solas. Whatever had happened to him, he was in a world where Solas did not know him. He swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat.

“Possibly, yes.” Solas dipped his head in acknowledgement, a familiar motion. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Ah…” Ek’olis frowned and finally tore his eyes away from Solas to look down at the mark on his hand again.

“Good to know!” another voice said, and Ek’olis looked over to see the dwarf with the crossbow. “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

“Our asses or theirs?” Ek’olis managed, somehow, to make his voice sound more even than he felt. It was enough that Solas always made him feel short, but he was surrounded by humans. This dwarf was the only person near eye-level.

The dwarf chuckled and stepped forward, holding a hand out. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He winked, and somewhere behind Ek’olis Cassandra scoffed.

“Ah, it’s… good to meet you.”

“You may reconsider that stance, in time,” Solas interjected

“Aww, I’m sure we’ll become great pals in the valley, Solas.” Varric just smiled, if sarcastically.

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra snapped. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

“Have you _been_ in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

Ek’olis looked from Cassandra to Varric a few times, considering the animosity between them. Was Seeker her title? Her name? He hated not knowing the world.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.”

Ek’olis looked back over to him, again shocked by his familiarity. Still, that saved him the risk of accidentally calling him by name before he should have known it.

“Right, yes, of course. I’m Ek’olis.” He watched the gears in Solas’ head turn again. Ek’olis wasn’t, strictly speaking, an elven name, even if it was _his_ name and he was an elf. He wondered if he could get away with basing a false history on his actual life. Had Tevinter been allowed to return to owning elves as slaves in this world? Did Tevinter even still exist?

Solas nodded in acknowledgement again. “I’m pleased to see you still live.”

“He means,” Varric added, “‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’”

Ek’olis looked from Varric back to Solas and scrutinized the man in front of him. How much did this Solas know? How different had his life been? Where had the split happened? “You seem to know a great deal about it all.” Might as well start testing the waters.

“Like you, Solas is an apostate.” Apostate. Cassandra said that last word with a certain distaste.

Ek’olis scowled slightly. He understood the literal definition of the word, but it made no sense in this context. What had that word been adapted to mean here?

“Technically all mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” Solas said, answering the unasked question. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.”

So he was definitely hiding who he was. What was a Circle mage? What was Solas _actually_ doing? It seemed unlikely that he was simply offering assistance, if this Solas was anything like his had been when they first met. “And what will you do once this is all over?” he asked, watching Solas’ face closely, looking for any hint of the man he knew, or at least a hint of who _this_ man was.

“One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not.”

One similarity at least, then: he had a tendency to speak in the third person when he wasn’t strictly talking about himself. It was enough to trick people, usually, but Ek’olis was familiar with that mannerism. He nodded, though, and tried to feign ignorance.

“Cassandra,” Solas continued, “you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to believe any mage having such power.”

There it was, a lie. Unless things had changed long before Arlathan had even _existed_ , this Solas was _lying through his teeth_. For one thing, he held that power himself, or at least once had. It was possible he was weak at that very moment, but he was no simple elven mage. For another thing, it was likely that he felt Ek’olis’ power, and Ek’olis was almost certainly powerful enough to tear a hole _that big_ in the Veil.

“Understood,” Cassandra said. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

“Well, Bianca’s excited,” Varric said, patting his crossbow and grinning as he followed after Cassandra.

Ek’olis considered his options before he followed after. He could just go home right now. It would be easier if he knew where he was, but it certainly wouldn’t be impossible. Still, that would leave these people with a Breach they had no means of closing. Well, they had one means of closing it, but it seemed that they didn’t know it. It also seemed that Solas may not have been powerful enough right at that point to close it.

His home tugged at one side of his heart and his duty to help those who could not help themselves tugged at the other. Ultimately his duty won out. He would help them close the Breach and then he would go home. With a sigh, he followed after the others.

They battled their way across a frozen river and all the while, Ek’olis ruminated on the world he was in. If Solas was here, that likely mean they were in Thedas. It was so cold they clearly had to be in Southern Thedas, which likely meant they were in the Frostbacks. Where in the Frostbacks, though? At some point in the battles he had ended up with a staff in his hands, likely pulled off a dead mage. It felt nice to hold one again, to have something to focus his magic through, even if it wasn’t his.

“Ek’olis,” Solas said, coming up beside him and catching his attention. “You are an elf, but do not bear the marks of the Dalish. How did you hide from the Templars?”

Ek’olis’ mind raced. What were Templars? What were the “marks of the Dalish?” Of course Ek’olis was Dalish, he’d founded the Dales! Gears turned in his head as he tried to find an answer to spit out that would placate Solas without raising more questions.

“When one knows the land, it’s simple enough to avoid the eyes of humans who would rather trample over everything in their path than not.” He hoped it was enough.

Solas seemed to appraise him then, but nodded. “I see. You escaped notice in much the same way I did, then.”

Ek’olis tried not to visibly relax. It was still possible Solas didn’t entirely believe him, but he wasn’t going to give him away right then, at least.

Varric took advantage of the silence, though. “So… _are_ you innocent?”

Again, Ek’olis considered his options. What answer would placate Varric without giving him away. “I don’t really remember what happened.” It was true, to be fair. _Something_ had to have turned his dream into a nightmare, and he didn’t know, or remember, what had done it.

“That’ll get you everytime,” Varric laughed. “You should’ve spun a story.”

“That’s what _you_ would have done,” Cassandra shot back.

“It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.”

Ek’olis snorted a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The group continued on in relative silence, speaking only during combat, and soon enough they were at the forward camp, another rift closed behind them. Ek’olis could hear arguing from up ahead. The other woman from earlier - Leliana, was it? - and a human in white robes. Ek’olis frowned.

“Ah, here they come.” The robed man had noticed them, finally.

“You made it!” Leliana said, sounding more surprised - or pleased? - than she should have. “Chancellor Roderick, this is-”

“I know who he is,” Roderick snapped, interrupting Leliana. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order your to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!”

Great. More things Ek’olis didn’t know. He knew the Chantry was a religious organization, and from context clues it sounded like Val Royeaux was its seat of power, but if they could execute anyone they pleased then they must also have been the government. That sounded horrible.

“‘Order me?’” Cassandra asked. By the sound of her voice, she was angrier than she’d been even at Ek’olis when she was interrogating him. More animosity. “You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

Leliana stepped in, apparently the voice of reason. “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey _her_ orders on the matter.”

Ek’olis squinted, thinking hard. Justinia must have been the Divine, then. She’d likely died in whatever explosion had caused the Breach. He sighed and brought his mind back to the matter at hand. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on closing the Breach?” he asked, leveling the Chancellor with a hard stare.

“ _You_ brought this on us in the first place!”

Ek’olis did not like Chancellor Roderick. He frowned and watched the man.

“Call a retreat, Seeker, our position here is hopeless.”

“We can stop this before it’s too late,” Cassandra said, apparently earnest.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest,” Leliana offered up. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.”

Ek’olis eyed Cassandra, but said nothing. He was sure he could get them through whatever path safely.

“Listen to me,” Roderick said. “Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.”

The Breach pulsed, the mark on Ek’olis’ hand surged, and Ek’olis frowned and clutched his hand to try and curb the pain. He realized, after it passed, that he had everyone’s attention then. “More lives will be lost no matter what we choose to do or not,” he said. “I figure the best way to lose the _least_ lives is to get me to the Breach so I can _try_ to close it.”

Cassandra pursed her lips, but nodded. “Then how do you think we should proceed?”

“We’ll take the mountain pass,” he said, no hesitation. “Your soldiers are going to be in the valley either way. This way _we’re_ more likely to get through and stop things.” What he didn’t say was that he mostly wanted to get up into the mountains and see if he could pick out any landmarks or geographic features he recognized.

So they took the mountain pass. It was a lot of walking, a lot of climbing, and even at the highest point of the path Ek’olis didn’t recognize any of the buildings or statues that had been erected. At least thanks to the position of the sun he knew which _side_ of the Frostbacks he was on. He simply had no idea how far north or south he was. He sighed as he looked out over Thedas.

“Far from home?” Solas asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Ek’olis frowned and looked at Solas, again searching his face. He looked exactly the same as his Solas and yet _so different_. It was honestly unfair. He was beginning to suspect that whatever world he was in, he clearly hadn’t succeeded in building the nation he had in _his_ world. He sighed and finally spoke. “So it would seem.”

He turned away before Solas had a chance to continue the conversation. It would be so easy to tell Solas everything about his world, about his Solas, but that needed to not happen. This was not his world, and this was not his Solas, and he couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t ruin everything if he opened up. It hurt more than it was comforting to hear Solas’ familiar footsteps following behind him, and he was grateful when he heard the others as well.

There were more demons to be fought, of course, more spirits who did not react to Ek’olis as spirits normally would, and another rift to close. They found the scouts, though, fighting the demons that had spilled forth from the rift. They were surprised to hear that Ek’olis had chosen to go through the mountain path, more surprised to hear Ek’olis say he was glad to have been able to help them. Were they surprised because he was a prisoner, or because he was a mage? Was it both?

From there, though, he could see yet more of the valley. It was no more illuminating to him, but he saw vast spikes of earth, still crackling with magical energy, rising up from what looked like it _must_ have been a temple. Was this their Temple of Sacred Ashes, then? He supposed it had to be. They were heading right for it.

What he found when they arrived made his stomach churn. Bodies, some still standing, others kneeling or laying on the ground, charred and burnt and deformed, a still-life of death at the blast point of a magical explosion the likes of which he couldn’t remember ever seeing in person. It was… horrible. He wanted so badly to reach out and push life back into them, fix their bodies, but he could feel that any life they once held was already gone. It had likely been eaten by the Breach.

The feeling in his gut worsened as they walked into the temple and the air around them thickened with magic. It was like walking through syrup. He hated it. He caught a glimpse at Solas from out of the corner of his eye and the concerned look on the man’s face did nothing for his mood. Nevertheless, he stood tall and took deep, even breaths as they moved through the entrance hall and into what… would have been the main hall of the temple if there were a ceiling to be found still.

Leliana and a contingent of soldiers had apparently not been far behind them. Ek’olis heard them enter the temple even as he stared up into the Breach, once more feeling for all the world like he was going to fall up into it. It was _pulling_ at him, somehow, and he hated it. He wondered if it was responsible for transporting him to this other world. He saw Solas join him out of the corner of his eye.

“So,” Ek’olis said, still staring up at the Breach. “In theory… if I close the rift here, it may close the Breach?”

“It is possible, yes.”

Ek’olis frowned, then turned to follow what path he could find down. He heard Solas follow him first, then the others. As they wound around the rift, he split his focus again, both keeping an eye on the area around him and considering his situation. How _had_ he ended up in this world? Why was it so similar and so different from everything he knew? Was it a different year? Did they use the same calendar? His frown deepened to a scowl, and then his thoughts were interrupted.

“Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.” The voice echoed around them, but Ek’olis could see no source and he couldn’t recognize the voice. It must have been slipping through the rift from the Fade itself.

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked, apparently searching for the voice herself.

“At a guess,” Solas said, “the person who created the Breach.”

Ek’olis nodded. That seemed as likely an explanation as any with the limited information he had. If nothing else, it was a starting point. He could build from there, find out who had pulled him from his home and why.

Varric interrupted his thoughts. “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.” He sounded… scared? Angry? Both.

Ek’olis followed his line of sight to find angry, red, glowing stones jutting out of the ground. They sang like lyrium, sure, but it was no lyrium song he had ever heard. Whatever this was, it didn’t act like lyrium anymore. It seemed almost infected.

“I see it, Varric,” Cassandra said, not sounding any less upset by the development than Varric.

“But what’s it _doing_ here?”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…” Solas was theorizing, probably, maybe. It wouldn’t have surprised Ek’olis if he knew exactly why it was there, though, if he was being perfectly honest.

“It’s evil,” Varric snapped. “Whatever you do, don’t touch it.”

Ek’olis eyed the red lyrium and gave it as wide a berth as he could manage. He was curious about it, sure, but now was not the time to act on that curiosity. There were more important matters at hand.

“Keep the sacrifice still.” The strange voice echoed throughout the chamber again.

“Someone help me!” Another voice echoed now, this one filled with fear, terror.

Cassandra stopped short. “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!”

Ek’olis watched Cassandra’s face as he stepped around her. They weren’t far from the rift. No matter what they were hearing, he had to keep moving, had to close the rift. He wasn’t going to leave these people with a problem like this when he could solve it. His jaw set, he hopped down from the ledge and stalked toward the rift, glaring up at it. The mark on his hand flared, and though it hurt he refused to show it.

“Someone help me!” Divine Justinia’s voice echoed around the chamber again.

“Stop this!”

Ek’olis stopped short, his anger tinged with confusion. That was _his_ voice. He didn’t remember _any_ of this.

“That was your voice,” Cassandra said, finally drawing up next to him. “Most Holy called out to you, but…”

Ek’olis threw his hand in front of his face as light spilled out of the rift. He could feel the Veil around them shift, and when he put his hand down again he saw a woman in robes - the Divine - held in the air by some sort of magical energy. Another figure loomed over her, one that was harder to discern. The scene played out, some sort of memory.

“Stop this!”

Ek’olis turned to see himself come running into the room, angry and out-of-breath.

“Run while you can! Warn them!” Justinia cried out.

“We have an intruder,” the third figure said. “Slay the elf.”

The image flashed white and faded from view. Ek’olis, wide-eyed, confused, angry, looked hard around the room even as Cassandra stared down at him.

“You _were_ there!” she said. “Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? What are we seeing?”

“I don’t _know_!” Ek’olis snapped, hand flying to his temple and pressing in. He was getting a headache from all of this shit. “I don’t _remember_.”

“Echoes of what happened here,” Solas said, his voice calm and even. For as much as it was infuriating to have a Solas present who was not _his_ , it was still soothing to hear his voice. “The Fade bleeds into this place.”

Ek’olis fought the urge to shoot a grateful look at Solas. It wouldn’t do to be familiar with this Solas. Instead he took a deep breath, then another, then another, and he stood up straight again, glared up at the rift. “This rift isn’t sealed, but it’s closed,” he said, and he could almost _hear_ the look of surprise on Solas’ face. “I can probably open it, and then we’ll be able to seal it properly, but that’s going to draw attention from the other side, so you all need to be ready for demons.”

“Stand ready!” Cassandra called out, and the soldiers and archers alike shifted, swords drawn, bows taut. “On your mark, Ek’olis.”

“Right…” He took another deep breath, spared a glance to one side to see Solas standing there, waiting, eyes on the rift, then reached out and felt the mark tether onto it. He forced it open.

A Pride Demon fell out, because of course it did, and Ek’olis immediately stepped backward through the Fade, putting distance between himself and the Demon before he slung fire at it from the end of his staff.

The fight was nearly rhythmic. The Demon would harness the Fade to gain protection, Ek’olis would disrupt that protection with the mark on his hand, and Shades would spill out and join the fray. While he could end the fight in a moment, really with a mere thought, he needed to see things through and didn’t want to risk anybody realizing that he was more than they thought. It raised less suspicion to let them think the battle was difficult.

Finally, the Pride Demon fell, and Ek’olis tuned the rest of the room out as he stepped forward and latched onto the rift again. This wasn’t unfamiliar magic after all, but he’d never used it like this before, and wasn’t sure how much effort to put in. Even as he considered this, though, he felt energy pour out from the rift and his vision went black. He felt himself hit the ground, heard muffled voices around him, and then nothing. His last thought was that he hoped he would wake up in his own bed.


	2. A Dance of Sorts

Ek’olis first became aware of something soft and warm draped over him. Without opening his eyes, he shifted onto his back and reached his arms out to either side of him, feeling around on the bed. It was empty, but for himself.

“Jayce?” he mumbled. “Solas?” He shifted, sat up, finally opened his eyes. This was not his bed. This was not his room. He had not gone home in his sleep. His partners were not waiting for him to wake up.

“Oh!” someone said, and Ek’olis turned to look towards the owner of the voice. It was a young elven woman, and she dropped the box she was holding when Ek’olis looked at her. “I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!”

“Why are you frightened?” Ek’olis said, and he winced immediately after. He’d sounded angrier than he probably should have. If this girl was already afraid of him, being upset would only make it worse.

“That’s wrong, isn’t it? I said the wrong thing.”

“No, you’ve done-” He cut himself off when she fell to her knees in front of him and even if  _ nothing else _ in this fucking world was familiar,  _ that  _ was. His mind stopped for just a moment.  _ Had  _ he existed in this world? Did they figure out who he was?

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.”

“No. No, no, no.” Ek’olis hauled himself out of the bed and onto his feet. “Get up, stop that. I won’t be having any of this here now.”

“Oh! I- I- I’m so sorry, my Lord!” She straightened up, voice more panicked, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to offend, I-”

“You didn’t offend me!” Ek’olis snapped, then he shook his head, tried again more softly. “You didn’t offend me. I just… don’t want to be bowed to. Where are we?”

“You’re back in Haven, my Lord.” She bobbed her head slightly. “The Breach stopped growing, and so did the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days.”

Ek’olis frowned. Three days? And the Breach wasn’t  _ sealed _ just  _ stopped? _ That wasn’t part of his plan. He was only supposed to close it and then  _ leave _ .

“I’m sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you’ve wakened. She said ‘at once!’”

“And where  _ is _ Lady Cassandra?” Ek’olis’ frown deepened. He wasn’t looking forward to spending more time in this strange world, especially not with the risk that they  _ knew  _ him.

“In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once!’ she said!” The girl shot him one more wide-eyed look - was that fear or awe? Both? - and then dashed out of the building, the door slamming shut behind her.

Ek’olis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off another headache before it started. He should have left well enough alone and gone home when he woke up in manacles. It wouldn’t have taken him very long at all to find his way home, even if he  _ wasn’t _ sure where in the Frostbacks he was, but now he was  _ invested _ . That was always his problem. He let himself get invested in people’s problems.

He quietly cursed himself and looked down at the strange clothes he’d been dressed in. Who had even dressed him? The clothes were hideous. Hopefully he wouldn’t be staying long enough to need to worry about replacing them, though. Instead he found his cloak and slung it on, picked up the staff he’d found  _ three days ago _ \- three days! - and left the building.

What met him was soldiers in unfamiliar armor lining the path, fists to their chests in a… salute? Ek’olis frowned at them, scrutinized them as he walked past. They seemed to have arranged themselves to line his entire path to the Chantry, and he felt that this was ostentatious and unnecessary. Not only was this nothing that had been done for him in his life, but these people had wanted to kill him only three days ago! Humans were so fickle. He had a suspicion they’d want to kill him again tomorrow.

Still, he made his way into the Chantry, trying to tune out the humans’ chatter as he went. It worked until he heard something that froze him in his tracks.

“That’s him! That’s the Herald of Andraste!”

Ek’olis’ head turned sharply, his eyes searching for who in the crowd had said that, but there were too many people, all talking at once. His mind raced as he continued up the path. They knew exactly who he was. They’d figured it out. In no time at all, they would be contacting his people, and then he would  _ really _ be trapped in a world that was not his own.

Somehow, he maintained an air of confidence as he stepped into the Chantry, and when the door closed behind him and he was alone for a moment, he let himself take several deep breaths. He could hear Cassandra and Roderick arguing behind the closed door to the room at the far end of the building. Even stopping the Breach hadn’t been enough for Roderick, apparently.

After he had his wits about him again, or at least as much as he could, Ek’olis stood up straight and strode confidently down the hall, threw open the door and frowned at the inhabitants of the room.

Roderick shot him one look, then turned to the guards at the door. “Chain him. I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that,” Cassandra snapped, “and leave us.”

Ek’olis watched the guards as they saluted Cassandra and left the room. He  _ was _ grateful that she held more sway over them than the Chancellor.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.”

Cassandra leveled her fierce glare on Roderick again. “The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

“Trying to close the Breach put me out of commission for three days,” Ek’olis said, first frowning at Roderick and then turning to Cassandra. “But I understand this mark a little better now, and since the Breach is stable I can take a little more time and close it properly.”

“You have done plenty,” Roderick said. “Your actions will be taken into account by the new Divine.” For some reason, this didn’t comfort Ek’olis. It still bothered him that the Chantry was a political organization as well as a religious one here.

“Have a care, Chancellor,” Cassandra said, clearly tamping down an urge to yell at the man. “The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

Leliana stepped up. Ek’olis almost hadn’t noticed her presence in the room. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live.”

“ _ I _ am a suspect?” Roderick asked, surprise clear in his voice.

“You, and many others.”

“But  _ not _ the prisoner.”

Ek’olis carefully tamped down the satisfaction he felt, not wanting it to show on his face.

“I heard the voices in the temple,” Cassandra said. The Fade memory. “The Divine called to him for help.”

“So his survival, that  _ thing _ on his hand - all a coincidence?”

“Providence. The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

Ek’olis’ eyes went wide and he stared at Cassandra for a moment as she looked at him expectantly. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I wasn’t sent by your Maker. I’m just an elf who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” They probably didn’t know who he was, at least.

“Or the right place at the right time. Whatever you are, whatever you believe, you are exactly what we needed, when we needed it.”

“The Breach remains, and your mark is our only hope of closing it.” Leliana eyed him, probably watching his reaction.

Ek’olis frowned. He had a feeling he was going to close the Breach and immediately get roped into something else. That didn’t sit well with him, but it was how he’d always been, he supposed.

“This is not for you to decide,” Roderick said, raising his voice again.

It didn’t matter. Cassandra dropped a large book onto the table in front of them, ending all debate quite dramatically.

“You know what this is, Chancellor?” she asked, turning back to Roderick and looking for all the world like she was prepared to lecture him right out of the Chantry, even the city. Maybe she was. “A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

In fact, she had backed him up to the wall beside the door, and she jabbed him in the chest with one finger as she spoke. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order, with or without your approval.”

Ek’olis felt a small surge of admiration for Cassandra as he watched Roderick retreat from the room. Her attitude was certainly commendable, though the ‘Inquisition’ worried him. There had been one before, and they hadn’t exactly been a positive influence on Thedas. Sure, they had claimed to fight demons and protect the innocent, but it was a simple step to claim almost anyone as a demon simply to justify murder.

Restoring order was more important, though. He could deal with making sure the new Inquisition wouldn’t follow its predecessor’s footsteps if it came to that. Internally, he cursed himself. His to-do list was getting longer by the minute. At this rate it could be weeks,  _ months _ , before he went home.

He shot Cassandra and Leliana a scrutinizing look, hoping they felt it in their very souls. “If you’re  _ truly _ trying to restore order…”

“That is the plan,” Leliana said.

“Help us fix this before it’s too late.” Cassandra held her hand out.

Ek’olis stared at it for a moment, and then clasped it with his own and looked up at Cassandra, expression grim.

The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. There were messages to be sent, orders to be given, declarations to be made, and Ek’olis found himself split between hiding away in the little house he’d been given and helping Leliana and Cassandra write up whatever needed written up. He was too clever  _ not _ to help, too used to leadership not to pick it up when it was available to him.

Eventually he met the other leaders of the Inquisition, and while he was uncertain what Cullen truly brought to the table that Cassandra herself did not offer, Josephine seemed a born diplomat. It surprised him none that Leliana was skilled at espionage, of course. He’d picked that up from her when she had nearly escaped his notice once or twice.

They had the barest beginnings of a plan: they needed to power up the mark - although Ek’olis thought he could probably do that himself with little issue - and he was supposed to leave for the Hinterlands the next day, officially acting as an agent for the Inquisition. It made his skin crawl to work for someone else, but he didn’t figure it would go very well if he just took control from the others. Just because he  _ could _ didn’t mean he  _ should _ .

Finally, he found himself standing outside of the Chantry again, the chill mountain air biting into him as he glared up at the Breach. It still felt like it wanted to pull him in. His best theory was still that the Breach had somehow plucked him from his world. If he left without closing it, there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t just pull him back again.

He sighed and pulled his eyes away from the Breach, looked around the town laid out in front of him. It was small, the architecture was strange, he was on the wrong side of the Frostbacks, and he still didn’t know how far north or south he was. He wondered what the state of his home was. Things must have changed quite drastically, otherwise it seemed hard to believe that these people did not know who he was or where he was from.

It was too early to sleep; he decided to take a walk around town, familiarize himself with his surroundings. This turned out to be a bad idea, as Solas exited a house and caught him on his way to the apothecary.

“Ah, Ek’olis,” he said, and the way he said it was still too-familiar. “The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.”

Ek’olis frowned and tried not to sigh with exasperation before turning to face Solas. “Oh?” he asked, having just managed to school his expression into passive neutrality. “Am I riding in on a shining steed?”

“I would have suggested a griffon,” Solas said, and Ek’olis internally panicked again; maybe this Solas  _ did _ know him. “But sadly, they’re extinct. Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.”

  
  
He blinked a few times, the weight of what Solas had just said not entirely hitting him for a moment. “They’re what?” he asked, his words bumping into Solas’ as he began to speak again, and they both stopped for a moment and just looked at each other.   
  
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Solas asked.

  
  
“No, nothing, please go on.” Ek’olis let his brow furrow, hoping he had brushed away any traces of the last emotion to cross his face. Solas was observant in any world, and that was dangerous.

For a moment, Solas said nothing, just regarded him curiously, then continued. “I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten.”

Ek’olis internally screamed.  _ Shit, shit, shit _ . He had really been hoping this Solas was not  _ also _ a Dreamer, but it was not to be, it seemed. That rather complicated things. More than they already were.

“Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

He cleared his throat, considered his options. Solas was bound to find out that he was a Dreamer eventually. It would be hard to miss, Dreaming in the same town. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because Ek’olis had spent no time actually sleeping since he’d arrived, only unconscious. He could broach that subject now, tackle the inevitable distrust immediately instead of waiting until there was no option, which surely couldn’t take longer than a night or two.

He’d taken as much time to think over his response as he would likely be allowed, and finally he spoke. “So you’re a Dreamer, then?”

That seemed to take Solas by surprise, though he quickly resumed his neutral expression. “I suppose it should not be surprising that you knew what I meant without needing more information.”

“Of course it shouldn’t.” Ek’olis took a moment to study Solas’ face again. “I’m the same.”

“Now that  _ is _ interesting.” To his credit, Solas didn’t appear concerned by this information, but Ek’olis knew he was, somewhere inside him. There was no way he didn’t think another Dreamer in such close proximity was a risk to his secrets, even if he had no reason to think Ek’olis knew he  _ had _ secrets.

Ek’olis managed, somehow, not to smirk. He knew Solas. His Solas may have been different in many ways, but he was still the same man in this world as in Ek’olis’ own. He’d long since learned Solas’ deepest secrets.  _ This _ Solas would not catch him off guard with them. In fact, it seemed he had the advantage over this Solas in that regard.

“We sleep on opposite ends of the town,” Ek’olis said, still watching Solas closely. “We could try to maintain a distance in the Fade. But we both know that our dreams are bound to bleed together eventually, especially on the road.”

Solas didn’t flinch. “The Fade does not always show things as they are. It is affected by the memories of a place and the people within it.”

“Now, we both know that a Dreamer can guide a dream in whatever direction he wants, Solas. Don’t insult me by thinking I may know less about the Fade than I do.” They were starting something. A dance of sorts, a game of wit. They did tend to be evenly matched in those, but this wasn’t his Solas. He had to tread carefully until he knew the limits of the game.

Solas seemed to appraise him again, perhaps in a new light. Or maybe he was rethinking being so open about his own Dreaming. Maybe it was both. “Alright,” he finally said, nodded his head once. “So you will not be misled about the Fade. It seems you are quite knowledgeable about magic many cannot fathom.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to learn.”

“What do you propose to do with that knowledge?”

Ek’olis smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Fix the world. Go home. Take a nap.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“Oh, I’m aware of the effort it will take.” It was a mild back and forth, ultimately. They were pushing each other, a little at a time, trying to get a feel for just what they were each dealing with. He scrutinized Solas’ face, but saw no hint that he would offer up any more information than Ek’olis could ferret out on his own. He shrugged and made to walk away. “I suppose we’ll see what happens after I seal the Breach.”

“I suppose we shall.” Solas still eyed Ek’olis with apparent mistrust even as he walked away, abandoning his plans to properly check out the apothecary.

He wound his way back down into the town, passed the tavern, and was stopped by Varric.

“So, now that Cassandra’s out of earshot, are you holding up alright? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.” Varric seemed to be covering genuine concern with humor.

Ek’olis frowned and looked down at the ground. How much of the truth could he spin into something that would satisfy Varric? The dwarf seemed trustworthy enough, but he also seemed clever and perceptive. That could be dangerous for someone trying to keep secrets. “Honestly, it unnerves me that I don’t remember what happened. It’s hard to keep up with everything happening when you aren’t sure how you got into a situation.”   
  
“Ain’t that the truth,” Varric laughed. “For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

“Something tells me you’ll see stranger things before we’re through here.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re right?”

Ek’olis just shrugged and smiled and continued on his way. It was getting dark. If the sky would clear he could probably figure out where, exactly, he was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't really have a release schedule for this, sorry. I'm gonna aim for a chapter a month for now, maybe. My summer semester is loaded down with honestly too many classes, so my writing has slowed down more than I'd like.

Ek’olis sat awake by the campfire in the middle of the night and stared up at the stars. He’d found he was having trouble sleeping on the road again. Had it really been so long? He supposed it had. It wasn’t even that the bedrolls were uncomfortable, it was that at some point he’d grown accustomed to sleeping in a bed, surrounded by stone walls, nestled between two people who loved him and whom he loved in equal measure.

Sleeping alone on a bedroll inside a flimsy tent paled in comparison.

So instead he sat awake by the fire, nose buried in a book he’d “borrowed” as he tried to make sense of just how far from home he was in a temporal sense. Sure, he was just across the mountain range from the Dales, but according to the book the Dales had been annexed by Orlais barely three hundred years after it had become a nation. Which was news to Ek’olis. Last he’d checked, which was some four hundred years into the nation’s existence, the Dales were still on good terms with Orlais, which was a collection of city-states and not an empire. Certainly not an empire that had  _ conquered _ the Dales.

He still wasn’t certain what year it was; the calendar the book referenced was unfamiliar to him, and the guide in the book was entirely possibly out-of-date. He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that the calendar  _ he _ was familiar with had never been used. The thought of that made his gut twist. It didn’t help that there was no mention of him, or anyone like him, in any of the history books he had worked his way through. Either he had never been born, or he had suffered an untimely death before the Dales were founded. He wasn’t sure which possibility bothered him more.

He sighed and put down the book, picked up a different one to read about the history of Ferelden. While the Alamarri had called the land such for more than a thousand years, it wasn’t a single united kingdom until much more recently. He wondered if the Alamarri of his world would ever unite in that way. It seemed possible, at least, given the way they cooperated with each other when other threats arose. The squabble would be over who would lead them, not that they should unite.

Another sigh and he set the book in his lap, looked up at the sky. The stars were the same. He was homesick. He heard rustling from one of the tents and looked over to see Cassandra join him by the fire. It was strange to see her in plainclothes, not in her armor.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked, taking a seat beside him.

Ek’olis shrugged and looked at his book again. “Not a wink.” He offered up no explanation.

They sat in relative silence for a few moments, Ek’olis inspecting his book and Cassandra building the fire back up to fight off the winter chill. Eventually, Cassandra spoke again.

“I have a question for you.”

“Seems like everyone has questions for me,” he said, closing the book on his hand so he wouldn’t lose his place. “Go ahead.”

“You do not believe you were chosen, do you?”

Ek’olis pursed his lips and scrutinized Cassandra, wondering what she was thinking. He hated learning new people. He sighed. “I do not.”

“Then do you believe in the Maker?”

He found himself simply staring at her again. Her convictions, her faith, were strong. Ek’olis held no such faith in higher powers. His faith had always been in his own strength, and later in the people around him. He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

What was he supposed to tell her? The truth? That  _ he _ had been lauded as a god by multiple nations? That he had  _ known _ Andraste? He settled for something more believable. “I was a slave once, Cassandra. The Maker did not care for me then, did not move to free me. I did that on my own. Your faith in your god spurs you onward, and that is great for you.  _ I _ have no such luxuries. I must be spurred on by my own power and by the people who rely on me. I cannot fail them.”

Cassandra looked as though she was regarding him in a new light, perhaps a conflicted one. He had a feeling she did not like that he held no faith in gods, but he saw no way she couldn’t respect what he  _ did _ have faith in. Ultimately their motivations were the same: they both wanted to help people. Just because his drive for it held a different reason than hers didn’t make his desire to help any less good.

“I suppose I can understand that,” she finally said, then looked at the fire again. “I was wrong about you, Ek’olis.”

“You were.” Ek’olis opened his book again, looked at it without reading anything. “But I won’t hold it against you. If I’d found  _ you  _ still alive in the center of a massive explosion destroying an embassy, I might have done the same thing.”

They fell into silence again, and after a moment Ek’olis closed his book, set it to the side, and turned to Cassandra again.

“Perhaps we could start over. Wipe clean the slate. No harbored grudge over a perceived threat against the world or being locked up on suspicion of terrorist activity.”

Cassandra quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“We’re going to be working together. We will accomplish more if we get along, if we ease this…”

“Antagonism?”

“Yes, exactly.” Ek’olis smiled then. He’d almost forgotten what an actual smile felt like, not the charming fake smile he put on when he needed to make people feel better. “You need me to close the Breach, but I need you, too. I don’t know this land or these people very well at all. If I step on toes…”

“It will make things harder for us.” Cassandra watched him for a moment, expression hard, and then it softened into a smile of her own. “Alright, then. Let us start over. We are the face of the Inquisition right now. People will feel much more confident in us if they see us united.”

“Precisely.” Ek’olis reached down and picked up the book again, almost opened, and then shook it at Cassandra. “Actually, in light of our newfound, ah… spirit of cooperation, I wonder if you might answer a question for me that is going to sound  _ very _ strange.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“What  _ year _ is it?”

“9:41 Dragon.” Cassandra raised one eyebrow. “Have you really been outside of society for so long?”

“I have. You’ll forgive me if I was not keen to rush into human cities again when I escaped my master.” He finally opened his book again. 9:41! Then it had been over 700 years since the Dales fell in this world, and he was some 500 years out of time, if he’d understood the calendar right. His gut twisted and his heart hurt.

“I suppose I cannot blame you for that. Life in an alienage is only a step above slavery, as I understand.”

Ek’olis looked up at Cassandra again, brow furrowed. “What is an alienage?”

“You really do not know.” Her voice got a little sad. “Your people, elves, live either as nomadic tribes called the Dalish or in alienages, at least here in Southern Thedas. Alienages are… they are not well kept up. They’re simply collections of hovels in an out of the way neighborhood that is often fenced off from the rest of the city. You already know that in Tevinter elves are still just slaves… I have heard that in Rivain and Antiva elves are generally treated much better, although I cannot speak to that myself.”

Rivain and Antiva. He knew those names. Then they were still nations at least. He wasn’t sure if that made it hurt more or less that the Dales had not succeeded in this world.

“So we have no home of our own,” he said sadly. “I see.”

“I am sorry, Ek’olis. There have been those who tried to change that, but it… well, it hasn’t worked.”

“Evidently those in power haven’t tried very hard.” Ek’olis frowned and began to read his book again. “Such a shame.”

They fell into silence again, and after some time Cassandra returned to her tent. Ek’olis spared a split second to worry that he’d fractured the small base they had tried to build for better cooperation and communication. He could fix that later, if it proved necessary, he supposed. He could also, possibly, maybe, fix the Dales. Again. He pinched the bridge of his nose; another headache was forming. He needed to stop adding to his to-do list. Just because he  _ could _ stay in this world nearly indefinitely and still end up back in his world in his time with no trouble didn’t mean he  _ should _ . But was he going to? Maybe.

It bothered him how willing he was to sacrifice his own wants and needs for the sake of other people’s safety. After everything he’d done he had a right to be selfish, didn’t he? So why  _ couldn’t _ he?

He sighed and kept reading. Maybe someday he’d learn to keep his nose out of other people’s problems. Not today, probably, but someday.

Dawn trickled over the horizon and a tent rustled again. Ek’olis hadn’t realized he’d been sitting there all night. He shielded his eyes as he looked up, seeking the sun. It would be bright and sunny soon, no doubt. Solas settled down across from him, blocking his view, and he frowned.

“You didn’t sleep.”

“No, I didn’t.” Ek’olis closed his book and set it down. “I just couldn’t get comfortable.”

“I would imagine that traveling in company like this is unusual for you.”

“Something like that.” He looked down at his left hand, pressed his thumb against the mark on his palm, sighed again. “Everything is different now. I haven’t adjusted yet.” He regretted saying it even as it spilled out of his mouth. Hopefully Solas would assume he meant the mark. There was a risk he’d already seen some of the secrets spilling off him in the Fade.

“You will become accustomed to it.”

“I suppose I will.” He didn’t want to. Despite all he was normally good at keeping a mask of calm reserve, the thought of becoming accustomed to sleeping alone in a bedroll on the hard road… There was sadness in his voice and probably on his face. He didn’t shiver when he thought about how much he missed home, but it wasn’t easy to stave off.

Solas’ eyes bored into him. “It will not be easy, but you will do it.”

Ek’olis frowned.

“Regardless, we will be arriving at the Crossroads today.” Solas paused a moment, seeming to scrutinize Ek’olis, then continued. “We will need to gain Mother Giselle’s support.”

Ek’olis continued to frown. The Chantry should never have become a political organization. Why was it beginning to feel like  _ he _ was the catalyst in all this? Why had nobody else stepped in to make things better? An entirely different history from the founding of the Dales to… now. One thousand years. “Would that it were unnecessary,” Ek’olis sighed. “It doesn’t seem to me like I’m going to get along with any Chantry mothers.”

“They are certainly confident in their beliefs, but the fact remains that whatever their belief, we must accede to it in order to gain entry to Val Royeaux and make contact with those who could help our cause.”

Ek’olis’ frown deepened. He could power up the mark on his own just fine, no help required. Maybe he should do it. Just get it over with, without this song and dance.

“This is as much about building alliances between people who are normally at each other’s throats as it is about sealing the Breach,” Solas continued. “If things are handled properly, the war between the mages and Templars can be ended properly, and the mages can be given freedoms finally.”

Ek’olis frown softened. He’d only recently learned that mages fared no better than elves in this world. It was easy to be blinded by impatience and forget that simply using his own power to fix things would not  _ help _ the mages at all. He sighed. “How do these Circles work, anyway?”

“The Chantry sends their Templars to fetch young mages and take them away. They are torn from their families, pressed into the Circle, and taught to control their magic there. Those that are deemed too weak to fight off the possession of a demon are made Tranquil, their connection to the Fade torn from them permanently.”

“That’s…” Ek’olis felt anger and sorrow twist in his gut in equal measure. “That’s monstrous. Removing a child from the safety of their home, the comfort of their family, does nothing but make it harder for them to learn to control their magic. They should be taught, yes, as it is a part of them, but they should not be taken  _ away _ for it.” He stood up, anger winning over sorrow, his hands clenched into fists. “What gave the Chantry the idea that mages should be caged? Living in fear like that doesn’t make it easier to control magic!”

Solas watched Ek’olis, appraising him, considering him for a moment. “They believe that mages being free would mean another Tevinter.”

“Then they are blind to the reality of the world.” Ek’olis started pacing, crossed his arms, uncrossed them, set them on his hips, gestured wildly. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, with all his angry energy. “Tevinter’s corruption was not due to magic, but due to greed, to lust for power. Simply being a mage does not corrupt you. I have known many people, not a lick of magic to them, who have been vile and disgusting. Magic is not the catalyst to becoming a powermad dictator.”

“You know that and I know that,” Solas said, his voice still calm. “But the Chantry is short-sighted. They believe this is the only way to prevent mages from taking over.”

“It is foolish, and gets innocent people killed.” Ek’olis rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, sat back down. “What is to prevent Templars from taking out their anger on mages and blaming the mages?”

“Nothing. That is sadly a common occurrence in Circles.”

“That is  _ disgusting _ .”

“And it is a reality of the world that our fellow mages face every day. Those who escape are hunted and killed for the crime of apostasy. It was only by voting as a whole to dismantle the Circles that the mage rebellion was able to happen at all, and that started the war. The Templars left the Chantry with intent to purge the mages from Thedas, and when the Chantry tried to solve this problem, the Conclave was attacked.”

Ek’olis frowned. So  _ that _ was what had been going on when he arrived. “It sounds to me like the Chantry and the governing bodies of these lands failed to remember that they need to treat their people like  _ people _ .  _ All _ of their people, not just those they deem worthy.” He sighed, shook his head, looked down at the ground. It was hard to believe that this might have happened had he not founded the Dales, built it into what it had become under his rule.

Solas said nothing. They sat in silence, the two elven mages, until the tents rustling again told them the others had woken for the day. Soon they had packed up their camp and they were on the road again. The entire trip, Ek’olis ruminated on the things Solas had told him. Occasionally he would look over and see Solas there, casting him either an appraising glance or a look of mild concern. It was unsettling. He was unsettling.

They would have to have a talk soon. Before certain things came out in the Fade, in their dreams. Or maybe it would be easier to talk in the Fade. It would be more private, certainly. He scowled. Privacy with Solas might not be a good idea. He was used to  _ confiding _ in Solas. Still, he couldn’t really risk anybody  _ hearing _ them. It would  _ have _ to be the Fade.

“You doing alright there, Boss?”

To Ek’olis' credit, he did not jump out of his skin. He hadn’t been paying attention, and Varric had managed to come up beside him without him being aware of it at all. He frowned at Varric. “Boss?”

“Yeah. You got this air of, I don’t know, leadership about you.”

“Even though I’m not in charge here.”

“Hey, who knows, you might take over one day. You didn’t answer my question.”

Ek’olis sighed and looked around, then back to Varric. “Look, this is all just… not what I expected. I haven’t traveled like this in… a long time.” He hadn’t traveled on his own feet in a very, very long time, was what he meant. Thinking about griffons being extinct made his gut twist, though.

“Have you even  _ slept _ since we left Haven?”

“...Not really. It’s fine. I’ll adjust eventually.”

“Adjust to what?”

_ Sleeping alone, _ Ek’olis thought. “Sleeping on the road,” he said.

The look Varric gave him said he didn’t entirely buy that. “You should try to get some sleep tonight, Boss. It’d do you good.”

“What, do I look that bad?”

“No, you look great, but you  _ sound _ like you’re going to rip someone’s head off.”

Ek’olis stifled a laugh. “Alright, fair. I’ve been told I can have a temper. I’ll  _ try _ to sleep tonight.”

“Good! Too bad before then we have a shit ton of work to do.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“What, an elven mage not looking forward to meeting a Chantry mother? Shocking.” Varric shot Ek’olis a sarcastic smile and picked up his pace, presumably to bother Cassandra.

After another hour of walking, the group found themselves in a skirmish between Templars and apostates at the Crossroads. Had it been a fight anywhere on the road, they might have skirted it, avoided it, not gotten involved, but there were refugees in the middle of the fight, just trying to stay alive, and Ek’olis could not abide that.

Fury boiled inside him and he stalked forward, tossed the staff he held away. He felt energy build up within him as he scanned the crowd, identifying who was a refugee and who needed to sit the  _ fuck _ down, and then he crouched, slammed his hands into the ground, and vines whipped up from the dirt, grabbed everyone actively involved in the skirmish, and pulled their feet out from under them.

“This stops  _ now _ ,” Ek’olis snarled, rising back to his full height. Five feet wouldn’t have been intimidating on anybody else. “Act like children all you want, but don’t drag innocents into your mess.”

The crowd was glued to Ek’olis, and though they weren’t rooted, the refugees seemed frozen in place, shocked to stillness though they’d been running for their lives just moments ago. A few of them, after a moment, got their wits about them again and ran for their homes. Others took longer to realize what, exactly, was happening, but then started hauling people who had been injured up to help them to the healers.

Solas stood beside Ek’olis and looked over the collection of combatants that had been pulled to the ground. “That was quite effective. I didn’t realize you could do that.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t realize about me,” Ek’olis said, still eyeing the people on the ground hard. He cleared his throat, then spoke loudly. “I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to leave. If you attack anybody in this area, you are going to have to deal with me, and I am not going to be as nice as I was this time.”

He gestured, the vines retreated, and the mages and Templars pulled themselves up, dusted themselves off, and slinked off in opposite directions. Ek’olis sighed and visibly relaxed.

“They’re going to regroup and clash again outside of the Crossroads,” Cassandra said, watching them go.

“We can deal with that later. The most important thing was discouraging them from fighting  _ here _ . We need to keep the people who aren’t involved at all safe. That is my top priority here.” Ek’olis noticed someone waving to him and headed over, assuming they were heading toward Mother Giselle.

“I mean,  _ I _ think that’s a good goal. There was a lot of collateral damage in Kirkwall. Less of that is great with me.” Varric looked around at the town, a strange look on his face. “I was expecting worse from this, so I’d say we’re already ahead of the game.”


	4. Sizing Each Other Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to sort out a good publication schedule, sorry, y'all. And my writing time dropped drastically when I started my summer semester so that doesn't help at all. Anyway, please enjoy Chapter 4, and feel free to come talk at me at BeeMeUpScottie @ tumblr!

Ek’olis opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of his home in the Dales. For the minutest fraction of a second he felt hope in his heart that he was _home_ , but he knew he was in the Fade. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, just breathing, just feeling the Fade around him. It was like a second home, and still much more comfortable than the world he would return to on waking.

Finally he looked up and pulled himself out of bed, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This was more comfortable than he’d been in a week. More than a week. He could still hardly believe he’d been unconscious for three days. The Breach had taken him by surprise, but he understood it now. It wouldn’t get him again.

As he moved through his home, the Fade shimmered around him and the walls changed, the distinctly elven architecture aging until the building was no longer his home, but something far older. When he closed his eyes again he could feel another presence in the Fade. He reached toward it, gently, slowly, and when he opened his eyes he saw Solas standing there in the midst of an elven ruin, staring at him.

“So you’re here.” Solas spoke evenly and calmly, but the Fade around him twisted. He was probably fighting to control some sort of panic in his gut.

“It was inevitable,” Ek’olis said. He strode toward Solas calmly and confidently. For all he’d been putting this off and internally panicking about it, now that it was happening, he found that he was ready for it. Solas could not catch him off guard. Not this Solas. Not here.

“Then you know.”

“That you’re more than you want people to think you are? Yes.”

“The same could be said for you. You cast spells today that few mages could fathom, let alone control.”

Ek’olis shrugged. “They will know eventually. If I do things right, they won’t know until I’m ready to leave.”

“And where will you go?”

“Home.” Ek’olis pulled at the Fade, wrenched it away from Solas and it bent to his will, twisted back into the Dales he knew, his home tucked away in the wilderness with the vast capital city just a short ride away. The architecture had clearly been influenced by the elven ruins they knew of, and many buildings had simply been built onto the foundations that still remained. “ _My_ home. To my people, my family. It is where I belong.”

Solas looked around, then stared hard at Ek’olis, again seeming to consider him in a new light. “There is no place like this in the world right now.”

“Solas, this is not my world. You already suspected that. Now I am confirming it.”

“And why are you so readily giving me your secret?”

Ek’olis looked down at the ground, and then up at Solas again, sorrow on his face. “Because you once told me _your_ secrets.” He sighed, released the Fade back to Solas, and it twisted back into elven ruins. “I know you are not _him_ . Not exactly. And yet at the same time, you _are_ him.”

Silence reigned for some time, Ek’olis could not be sure how long, and he sighed sadly again, turned to leave, give Solas space and time. He knew this was likely what would happen. There was no reason for Solas to believe him, no reason for this Solas to trust him or confide in him as _his_ Solas had. Still, he had to believe that this Solas would be smart enough to keep his secret. After all, even if he didn’t entirely believe him, there was always the _risk_ that he knew somehow. He didn’t believe Solas would risk that.

“You were close to the me that exists in your world.”

Ek’olis stopped in his tracks. He willed his staff - _his_ staff - into existence in front of him and clutched it tight, leaned on it. It was a comfort to have it in his hands again, even if only in the Fade. He wanted to turn around, but facing Solas would hurt too much in that moment. “Very,” he finally said simply, hoping against hope that the sound of his voice did not convey all the conflicted emotion behind the single word.

He heard Solas’ footsteps behind him and somehow he did not flinch away when he felt the familiar weight of Solas’ hand on his shoulder.

“I am… sorry, Ek’olis. I know how hard it is to be away from everything you know.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for. I could go home right now. But I know if I go home I will not come back and fix things for these people. This world needs me to put things right.” He finally looked up at Solas and he frowned. “Unless _you’re_ going to fix the Breach.”

Solas said nothing, just kept looking at Ek’olis.

“I didn’t think so,” Ek’olis muttered. He pulled out of Solas’ grip and started walking, didn’t slow or look back even when he heard Solas following him. He knew he’d thrown Solas off-kilter; that had happened when they’d first met in his world, too. Solas hadn’t been expecting someone like him. This Solas, a Solas who had seemingly waited longer to venture out, would likely have expected him even less.

The Fade twisted around them as he claimed control again, and the ruins became Ek’olis’ city, Elven homes and businesses scattered around, stone brick paths and roads winding around and between them, stained glass set in windows. It hurt, but for some reason he felt he needed to show Solas his home.

“Is this really what the Dales are there?” Solas asked.

“It is. We’re thriving. Centuries of hard work have gone into building it as a nation, giving us not only equal footing to the humans’ nations, but a leg up on some of them. Orlais looks to the Dales for guidance in my world. Tevinter is not a threat to us. Ferelden hasn’t united yet, though they may still.”

“You were pulled to a different time, not simply a different world.”

“Yes, I was. But when the Dales fell in your world, mine was at no risk of falling. The Chantry was not a governmental organization. It could wage no wars, hold no Exalted Marches. My people, my nation, we’re strong, and while it was not my original plan, we have meddled in the affairs of other nations not only to help them but to protect our sovereignty and borders as well.” Ek’olis waved his hand and the Fade shimmered and the sounds of daily life in the capital city of the Dales filled the air. He breathed in deep and exhaled slow.

“Your plan?” Solas was appraising him again, likely. “I had gathered that you lead the Dales, but you speak as though you _founded_ the Dales.”

Ek’olis looked down at the ground, then up at Solas. “I did.”

“That would make you some four centuries old.”

“Older.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Ek’olis turned to face Solas properly, his brow furrowing. “And yet here I stand. We’re in the Fade right now. For all the Fade can twist things, it also shows them exactly as they are. What do you see when you look at me? Do I look like a liar? Like a simple elven mage and nothing more?” He felt Solas’ eyes search his face, felt the Fade shift around him again, nearly opening up. He knew what Solas would find: a spirit, not simply coexisting with Ek’olis but having melded with him. Wisdom had taken root in Ek’olis’ mind and one day they had melded together so wholly that they were no longer separate entities.

“I see a being who should not be possible in this day and age,” Solas finally said. “Which can only mean that you are not lying about who you are.”

It was a surprising comfort to know that Solas believed him. A step in the right direction, at least. He turned and began walking again, winding his way through the city to its center, not worrying about Solas following him or not. He just wanted to enjoy seeing home again. He probably wouldn’t be conjuring it up in the Fade again for a while, or at least not intentionally.

“So tell me, then,” Solas said, having clearly kept pace with Ek’olis. “What will you do with the knowledge you have of me?”

“That depends on you.” Ek’olis traced his hands over the wall beside him as he traversed steps up toward a central plaza. “We’ve fought before. You nearly won, but you were stronger then than you are now. Sleeping so long has made your power wane, Solas.”

He half expected Solas to snap an angry response, but he seemed to know that it was true somewhere in him and he kept silent.

“And I’m stronger now than I was then.” Ek’olis stopped in front of a fountain and traced his hand through the water before he turned to face Solas again. “You told me what you had considered doing to the world, once. If you do that here, I will stop you.” Solas’ face and his voice wouldn’t make Ek’olis falter.

Solas still remained silent, his eyes searching Ek’olis’ face. Whatever he saw there, his face carried no reaction.

Ek’olis sighed and turned away again, rounded the fountain and continued up yet more stairs toward what could only be called a palace, built into the massive trunk of a tree that stretched up into the heavens, its limbs covering the capital city like a canopy. Globules of light danced among the leaves, gently illuminating the city as Ek’olis pushed open the door to the palace and stepped into the silence of the great hall.

The throne at the back of the hall was empty, as it nearly always was. He rarely sat there for anything but formal events, and even then he preferred to be up, speaking to his people, learning what needed work. He stood at the entrance, stared up at the tapestry-lined walls, watched the drifting globules of light as they danced just below the high ceiling.

“It is no wonder you miss home.” Solas settled beside him again, arms folded behind his back.

Ek’olis spared him a glance before turning his eyes to the ceiling again. “You would, too.”

“I am not the Solas of your world.” He walked over to the wall, touched one of the tapestries. “But perhaps, with time, we can trust each other.”

“The situation we both find ourselves in _requires_ we trust each other, Solas. We have no choice. I had hoped, though it was a thin sliver of a chance, that you were not a Dreamer in this world. Since we’re both Dreamers, we must account for the fact that keeping secrets from each other will be nearly impossible.” Ek’olis sighed and walked toward the center of the hall. “In my world, I _stumbled_ upon my Solas’ secrets. We had no choice then, either, but it was an accident. In this world we have the opportunity to be deliberate about it.”

He felt Solas’ eyes on him again. It was too much to know the man inside and out and yet have to keep an emotional distance from him, and he needed to focus on something else. For all his talk of not keeping secrets because the Fade would give him away, there were still some things he did not want to share. Solas didn’t need to know how much it hurt to look at him.

“Then as I see it, you have the advantage over me. You already know me. I know nothing of you but what little you have shown me.”

Ek’olis turned again to face Solas and eyed him for a moment. “Alright,” he said finally and stretched his arms wide. The Fade shifted around him and they were somewhere in Tevinter, watching as a younger Ek’olis herded a number of elves out the door, tucking books and scrolls and trinkets into empty pockets and open hands as they went. The last one tried to grab his hand, to pull him along with them, but he pulled away and ran back into the building, back to the library, back into the Magister’s office.

The young Ek’olis shoved as many scrolls into his pockets as he could before he spotted the Magister’s staff, reached for it, hesitated, then heard a noise at the door and grabbed it. He disappeared just as an armed guard ran in, and the memory shifted. Now it was snippets of time on the march from Tevinter to the Dales, Ek’olis guiding the caravan, finding them food, healing the injured and sick. They joined with another caravan at some point, and another and another, and eventually there were elves as far as the eye could see, trekking through forests and across plains land and eventually crossing the Waking Sea.

“The journey was hard on many.” Ek’olis watched the memory sadly. “There were some I could not heal, some who did not make it to our new home… But they lived on in the memories of their loved ones and now they live on in _my_ memory. Trees were planted for them when we finally stopped.” The memory faded and again they were standing in the great hall of the palace.

Silence for a moment, a minute, maybe an hour.

“That is who I am, Solas. I am the slave who got everyone else out alive with as much knowledge as they could carry, then risked my life to go back in for more knowledge and for the tools necessary to keep everyone alive.” He sighed and carried himself to the head of the hall, placed one hand on the armrest of his throne. It felt strange to miss something he had never truly wanted. Leading was fine, he supposed, but a throne was… a separation between him and his people. Right now, though, it was one of his only connections to them.

“And you took that knowledge and built a nation.”

“My people needed a home. _I_ needed a home. I had the power to build one for us, with a little help. Originally I had only wanted to build our home and then serve as an instructor for all our mages and eventually all our children, to lead the school and teachings.” He traced his hand from the armrest up over the back of the throne. “The people asked me to lead them, and I couldn’t say no. Not when they looked at me the way they did. They looked at me like I had built their world, and for all intents and purposes, I had. You know as well as I do what that feeling is like, that sense of duty. I had no choice.”

“It seems your plans fared far better than mine did.”

Ek’olis turned and leveled Solas with a hard stare. “My plans did not require a fundamental shift in the _material_ of the world, just the culture. When you woke, you saw what I had done and though it wasn’t what you had hoped to find you eventually realized that it was a better world than anything else our people have seen. Nobody in my Dales _wants_. They have food, they have shelter, they understand their magic and though we are still discovering our past we do not cling to it like a life raft because we don’t need to. We can move forward, and we do.”

“What makes you think the same could happen in this world, now, after so much time has passed?”

“I am here.” Ek’olis frowned and walked back toward the center of the hall, toward Solas. “I know how conceited it sounds, but my best guess right now, the best theory I have for why the Dales failed in this world is that _I didn’t make it_ . I don’t know if I was never born in this world or if I died on my way out of Tevinter, but I’m here _now_ , and I am far more powerful now than I was when I founded the Dales in my world. Given time, given the ability to forge connections, I can persuade Orlais or Ferelden to give us land, and I can take that land and build it into a nation again. I’ve done it before. It may be harder this time, but I am stronger this time and I have _many_ more years of experience under my belt.”

“And do you intend to storm Tevinter and free their slaves?”

“If it proved necessary.” Ek’olis squared his jaw, stood up as straight as he could. “And if they’re anything like the Tevinter I remember, it will.” Unless things were radically different, beyond the Breach in the sky, there was no force in Thedas capable of standing against Ek’olis if he had the support of even a small army behind him. He could sway hearts and minds, and those who would not be swayed would fall.

He wondered, as he watched Solas scrutinize him, if Solas was uncomfortable with how similar they were in this exact moment. He remembered Solas’ motivations and thought processes when they’d first met, he remembered the anger burning inside him. He knew that this Solas had to be similar, rage still burning inside even if time had tempered his outward displays of emotion in a way the Solas he knew had not experienced.

“You would truly dally here and delay your return home long enough to solve the problems of this world?”

“It is not _dallying_ , Solas, not if it helps people. It is _never_ a waste of time to help people.”

Ek’olis wasn’t sure if Solas was eyeing him with suspicion or admiration or pity. Maybe it was a combination of the three. They stood in silence for a time, watching each other. They did that a lot, it seemed, just sizing each other up.

“Your aim is admirable, if infeasible.”

A sigh passed his lips and Ek’olis shook his head. “You’ve told me that before, Solas. Not _you_ , but… you.”

“And was I wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose we shall see if I am wrong this time.” He moved closer to Ek’olis, leaned in a little. “For what it’s worth, I hope I am.”

Ek’olis genuinely believed that.

Then he felt the sun on his cheek, opened his eyes, and sat up in his bedroll. It was morning. He had slept through the night. Something painful twisted in his gut and he sighed and buried his face in his hands, staved off the emotional torment of being so close to Solas and yet _so far away_.

Finally, he rose from his bedroll and prepared for the day.


	5. But It Was Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer semester is almost over; in fact, one of my summer classes has ended already. This fall I have a much lighter load, so I'm hoping to get back on track with writing this.
> 
> Outside of that, though, I've decided that, for now at least, I'm going to post one chapter on the 15th of every month. Given how many chapters I have written already, that's nearly two years of updates before I exhaust current chapters. When I get back in the swing of writing this, I may increase how often I post a chapter. We'll see.
> 
> Enjoy!

For all Ek’olis cared, Val Royeaux could fall to ruin. They had not been received well, and nobody seemed aware that the leader of the Templars was a Demon. Maybe he’d been human once, but he was a Demon now. The worst part, though, was meeting the leader of the rebel mages as they left and feeling the shift of time magic on their way out of the city afterward. When he turned again to see what had changed, Fiona was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d simply ducked into a shop, but that seemed unlikely.

The trip back to Haven was littered with scattered conversations on horseback, around the fire, and in the Fade. With Cassandra he discussed Inquisition plans, whether to meet the mages in Redcliffe or to investigate why the Templars were behaving the way they did. He did not tell her about the Demon or the time magic. He told her he at least wanted to  _ visit _ Redcliffe first; the mages were already prepared to speak with them, but more than that if he discovered the source of the time magic, he could use it as an explanation for his own spells affecting time later, possibly. If a lack of time forced a choice between working with the mages and bringing the templars to heel, perhaps he could simply make more time.

Varric mostly told him stories about Kirkwall, about Hawke and their exploits together. Occasionally he would talk about the Hero of Ferelden, breaking up first-hand stories with secondhand tales. Ek’olis didn’t know how much to believe of either. It wasn’t that the stories were impossible or unlikely, not to Ek’olis, but that it felt like Varric embellished everything.

With Solas he spoke of the other world and the history of this one, of the Fade and of magic and of philosophy. It was familiar. He knew he shouldn’t be taking comfort in the familiarity of Solas, but it was perhaps too late for that, and it did ease the pain of being away from home, even if it caused an entirely different pain to twist in his gut.

And then they’d arrived in Haven and Ek’olis had listened to Cassandra and Cullen and Josephine and Leliana argue in circles over what to do next and he put his foot down and told them he was going to Redcliffe to at least hear them out, and while he was there everyone else could put their ears to the ground and figure out where the Templars were holed up.

All of that led to an early morning and Ek’olis soothing a hart that had been sent to Haven while they were in Val Royeaux. The Dalish clans were apparently very interested in the Herald of Andraste being an elf, even if he wasn’t what they knew as Dalish. He hadn’t ridden a hart in centuries, but he remembered them having the same pride as griffons. A saddle and reins would, naturally, be out of the question, and the hart had  _ loudly _ voiced its protest when the Horsemaster had approached with such gear.

Finally, the hart calmed, Ek’olis led it out of the make-shift stable and leaned in close, pressing his forehead to its shoulder and seeking out its mind with his own. After a moment, the hart kneeled down and Ek’olis was able to climb onto it’s back, tangle his fingers into its thick mane. The others just watched from horseback, apparently not daring to disturb the strangeness of the moment.

Before they could set out, though, one of Leliana’s myriad scouts came running through the gates, waving a letter. “Master Ek’olis, Master Ek’olis!”

Ek’olis made a mental note to thank Leliana for instructing her scouts not to call him the Herald of Andraste and he urged the hart toward the scout, untangled one hand from its mane to reach down. “What’s the matter?” he asked, taking the message and unfolding it even as the scout began to speak.

“News just came. A number of our soldiers are being held hostage in the Fallow Mire. An Avvar tribe has taken them, and they say they want to speak to you in particular.”

Reading through the letter quickly, Ek’olis confirmed what the scout said, and then frowned. He’d never had issues with the Avvar in his world. Then again, that was in part because of who he was. Having joined with a spirit in the way he had, they… well, they had particular views about that, and had generally decided that Ek’olis was someone to get along with. He remembered them as being an insular society, and untrusting of Alamarri until Ek’olis had sat them all down to stop their skirmishes. He wondered if they were still so insular, if any of their views or beliefs had changed over time.

When Cassandra led her horse over, Ek’olis passed the message to her, still frowning.

“The Fallow Mire is past Redcliffe,” she said, her eyes darting over the paper. “It would take us some time to get there, and then more to get back to Redcliffe.”

“I would consider this urgent enough to delay our meeting in Redcliffe,” Ek’olis said. He sighed and tangled his other hand back into the hart’s mane. “It’s likely that Fiona will not beat us back to Redcliffe anyway, even with our stop in Haven. We can go to the Fallow Mire, rescue our people, and then go back to Redcliffe. That would give Fiona time to prepare her people for a discussion of such magnitude as a possible alliance with the Inquisition.”

“I suppose that does seem the most reasonable solution.” Cassandra folded up the missive and tucked it into her saddlebag. “We will go to the Fallow Mire first then. Please inform Leliana of the change in plans.”

“Of course, Seeker.” The scout bobbed their head and ran back into the city.

Ek'olis' patted the hart's side and urged it on its way, leading the party away from Haven and down out of the mountains. The long trip was punctuated by battles with bandits and demons, and by conversation with his companions. Cassandra built plans with him again: plans for negotiating with the Avvar, plans for  _ fighting _ the Avvar if negotiations were not enough, plans for negotiating with the mages, plans for meeting the potential allies that had contacted them after their trip to Val Royeaux. She flooded him with information about Vivienne de Fer and warnings about meeting whoever had sent the anonymous note.

They helped the odd refugee as they traveled through the Hinterlands, and eventually the land turned marshy. The horses and the hart protested the new environment, and travel was slower, but the Fallow Mire wasn’t far. They arrived at night to find Inquisition scouts just finishing setting up the first campsite. They stopped long enough to tie up the horses and unload supplies, and then they made their way into the bog, light dancing in front of Ek’olis as he led the way.

Undead rose from the bog, their footsteps dragging as they dashed forward to attack, and Ek’olis calmly threw fire at them, walked past as they fell to the ground and burned. They were only undead. Certainly it wouldn’t be strange to defeat them with no real issue. He did reach out to the spirits around though, urged them away. It was one thing to lay the dead to rest again, another to fight beings that were simply not made for this realm.

Then they came across the first beacon, a pillar rising up out of the bog.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked.

Ek’olis strode forward, placed his hand on the beacon and circled it. There were runes scrawled on one side, a sconce for veilfire on the other. He traced his fingers over the runes, then stepped around and pulled at the Fade, summoned veilfire into the sconce. The beacon pulsed, a wave of magic rolling out from it, and the bog shifted, inhuman voices crying out.

“What did you do?”

“It will draw the undead in, and demons, too,” Ek’olis said. “It makes the trip up more difficult, but it will be a safer path for the soldiers to take when they’re freed. There are likely more throughout this bog.”

The demons arrived then, along with a number of corpses, and Ek’olis slipped through the Fade, pressed one lightning-bound hand to a demon’s leg, let it burst. The fight was simple, maybe too easy. Ek’olis didn’t want to waste too much time pretending the demons were troublesome, though. There was another beacon, another fight with demons and undead, and then there was a rift.

The rift itself was not unusual. It was like any other, really. What was unusual was that it was watched by an Avvar. Ek’olis didn’t entirely recognize the markings he bore, but he seemed to be one of their Watchers, a shaman. That would be either very good for Ek’olis, or very bad.

The Watcher took notice of them, turned, appraised Ek’olis. “So  _ you’re _ Herald of Andraste.” He eyed Ek’olis hard for a moment, searching his face. Ek’olis wondered if he was skilled enough to see what Ek’olis was. Apparently he was, because he dipped his head in reverence. “My kin want you dead. Now I’ve met you, I know how foolish that is. They would dishonor our hold.”

Good and bad, then. The Avvar still held Ek’olis, or at least his ilk, in esteem. If this Watcher could convince his brethren to stand down, preferably without giving why away to Cassandra or Varric, freeing the soldiers would be a simple matter.

“Are our soldiers alright?” Ek’olis asked, watching the Watcher.

“A few were injured in the skirmish, but they were alive last I saw them. Someone’s trained them well. They killed more of us than I thought they would.”

“Good. Then tell me, Watcher, why are you here, and not with the others?”

“Trying to figure out this hole in the world.” He turned back toward the rift, stared at it with a respect and reverence like that he’d begun to show Ek’olis. “Never seen anything like its like. They spit out angry spirits, endless. What the sky’s trying to tell us, I don’t know.”

“You’re hoping to read a message from the Lady of the Skies in the rift, then.”

“You know of her!”

“In a manner. Your people have revered her for more than a thousand years.”

“Perhaps the Lady of the Skies only wanted me to wait here for you, to help you.”

“Maybe.” Ek’olis was grateful that the others weren’t interrupting. They could confuse the conversation. “Will you accompany us to the hold, then? Speak to your brethren?”

“Yes. I will talk the whelp down. His father does not deserve this shame.”

The group moved on, one larger. Ek’olis felt Cassandra’s eyes burning into the back of his head as they carried on to the next beacon. She was going to ask questions when they had a moment, he was sure. He lit the beacon, they fought the demons and corpses, and they moved on.

There were Avvar between them and the next beacon, and when they readied their bows the Sky Watcher strode forward and held up a hand.

“Hold your fire,” he said. “There will be no fighting today, not of these lowlanders.”

Though confused, they lowered their bows, and they joined the group as they continued on, assisted in fighting demons and undead. Eventually, they saw the outer wall of the keep rise up out of the murk, along with dozens of undead. Everyone seemed to be appraising their odds of winning against so many corpses as they approached.

“There are too many of them! Get to the gate!” Cassandra barked out at the same time as the Sky Watcher said, “We must put them to rest!”

Ek’olis turned around and frowned at both of them before whipping back to face the corpses and launching a wall of fire through them. Cassandra wouldn’t be happy with what she was likely about to learn, but he  _ liked _ the Avvar. He wasn’t about to jeopardize building another alliance with them.

“You see?” The Sky Watcher was speaking to the other Avvar who had joined them. “He is like the Lady of the Skies.” The way the Avvar looked at Ek’olis was uncomfortable - it always was - but it was familiar.

“We can talk about this later,” Ek’olis hissed to Cassandra when he saw she was ready to say something. “We need to go release our men.”

Cassandra just responded with a sour look, and Ek’olis strode through the gates, the Sky Watcher at his shoulder. There were more Avvar inside the gate complex, and again the Sky Watcher bade them stand down. So it went when they reached the Avvar guarding the entrance into the main hall of the keep, and finally they stood inside the hall.

“Herald of Andraste!” The Avvar standing at the head of the hall raised his maul over his head. “Face me! I am the Hand of Korth himself!”

Ek’olis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Herald of Andraste this, Herald of Andraste that. “I’m not fighting you!” he shouted back.

“Stand down, boy,” the Watcher said, striding forward. “He is no mere lowlander.”

“He has tricked you into talking me out of this fight!” The Avvar swung his hammer around, breaking up the stonework beneath his feet. “Come at your death, Herald!”

“Oh, for the love of…” Ek’olis stepped forward, took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and spread his arms out beside him. A host of spirits shimmered into existence even as the spirit aspect of himself made itself visible. A moment later they all collapsed into him again. “Do you see now? I am not fighting you.” He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He’d made a spectacle of himself. As long as it worked, though…

And it had. The Hand of Korth kneeled, still holding his maul. Ek’olis maintained his composure, squared his shoulders, continued to exude confidence. This, too, was familiar to him.

He felt Cassandra’s hand on his shoulder and her voice low in his ear. “We  _ need _ to talk.”

“Watcher, will you make sure they free our men?” Ek’olis nodded to Cassandra and followed her back out of the main hall.

“Tell me what is going on.”

Ek’olis frowned and ran through his options quickly in his head. He needed something that would satisfy Cassandra and wasn’t a  _ lie _ . “Much of the magic I have learned and mastered is something that Avvar revere. Those in their holds and clans who learn the same magic are held in high esteem.” It was  _ true _ , to be fair, if not the entire truth, but Cassandra didn’t need to know that the Avvar in his world considered him equal to their gods.

Cassandra made a noise like she was considering what he said, and she frowned right back at him. “I didn’t know you were so familiar with the Avvar.”

“I can’t say that I necessarily  _ am _ familiar with ‘the Avvar’ in general. I am familiar with  _ some _ Avvar traditions. Not every hold has the same views and beliefs. We were lucky with this hold.” Also not technically a lie. “And it worked out in our favor."

“You seem rather confident.”

Ek’olis heard an accusation under the words. She was beginning to suspect that he was more than he’d let on at first.  _ This was inevitable _ , he reminded himself.  _ It was just a matter of when, not if. _

“I have to be.” Ek’olis let his frown fade into a neutral expression and leveled her with a neutral gaze. “I’m an elf in a world that views us as slaves and servants, and on top of that I’m a mage in a world where mages aren’t allowed any freedoms. If I don’t at least  _ feign _ confidence, none of you would respect me.”

“Hmm.” Cassandra eyed him, clearly still suspicious.

“Don’t try to act like I’m wrong.”

“I suppose I must concede that to you, then, Ek’olis.”

Ek’olis sighed and turned back toward the others, watched as Solas checked over the soldiers that had been freed and Varric told them, likely with much exaggeration, what had happened. He supposed all the spirits  _ had _ been a little much. He had a tendency to be dramatic when he was in a rush, went too far just to make sure he didn’t need to spend more time on something than was truly necessary.

“Herald of Andraste!” The Watcher was beckoning him over.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, willed the burgeoning headache away, and went over, leaving Cassandra and her doubts behind. “Please, Watcher, call me Ek’olis. Herald of Andraste is neither a name nor title I chose for myself.”

“Ek’olis, then. The whelp regrets his actions. He’ll find another way to earn his name.”

“I’m sure he will. And what will you be doing, Watcher?”

“The Lady of Skies sent me here to help heal the wounds in her skin.”

“Then you’ll be helping us. I’ll ask you to see our soldiers safely back to Haven.”

“Where will you go?”

“I have business in Redcliffe.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly forgot today was the 15th, I've been so busy!!
> 
> I filed my name change yesterday, I went to the DMV today, and next week I start classes and my internship! It's a lot.
> 
> But I'm progressing on new chapters, so at least there's that. Enjoy!

The trip to Redcliffe had been… interesting, if not altogether helpful. Nobody had been prepared for them, and Fiona had not visited Val Royeaux at all, which would have seemed odd if Ek’olis hadn’t been aware of the time magic. What really bothered him, though, was that the rebel mages had indentured themselves to a Magister from Tevinter. He’d considered setting the Magister on fire right then and there, and thinking back on it he almost regretted not doing it. But he wanted that excuse to be able to use time magic. If the bastard used it when they returned, and they were definitely going to return, he could use that to his advantage.

On their return to Haven they’d been met with more information about the Templars and with messages from yet more potential new recruits. A Court Enchanter, an… anonymous rogue of some sort, and a mercenary. Leliana had also asked him to check on a Grey Warden in the Hinterlands, either to rule out that the Grey Wardens had had something to do with the attack on the Conclave or to verify that they had taken part in some way. Ek’olis had a headache as he thought back on each meeting.

_ “Well, hope you’re not… too elfy.” _

Sera had been odd. Interesting, though. She danced around the words, but it seemed like she was there to make sure the Inquisition was going to look out for people with no power to protect themselves, wasn’t just going to be another Chantry. Still, he had no idea what “too elfy” was supposed to mean. How could an elf be “too elfy?” And  _ she _ was an elf! Even having brought her on, he was confused.

Vivienne had been polite enough. Someone had made an attempt to duel him - a challenge he was fully prepared to accept; incapacitating him would have been simple - and the Court Enchanter had simply frozen him in place. He hadn’t expected such a public display of magical prowess in Orlais, not after what he’d learned of Orlesian views of magic, but he was unopposed to it. Interspersed in all her pleasantries, though, was shrewd political acumen. She may have been all “my dear” this and “darling” that, but he knew she was sizing him up with every word they exchanged.

_ “As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause.” _

That had bothered him, admittedly. “Loyal mages” meant she had opposed the rebellion. It meant she would be opposed to him bringing the mages into the Inquisition, opposed to him helping them find safety and  _ not _ be chained by either a Magister or the Chantry. Still, she was powerful. Her magic was paltry compared to his, but she had connections that rivaled Leliana’s, as far as he could tell. She would be useful; he just needed to find a way to dance around her political views.

_ “If you’re trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me.” _

The Grey Warden, Blackwall, had most definitely not been a Grey Warden, but Ek’olis wasn’t terribly interested in spilling another man’s secrets. He would wait, talk to Blackwall in private when a trust had been built. After all, he seemed as keen as Sera on helping people, on stopping the war, on fixing the world. Whatever he’d done in the past that seemed to justify in his eyes impersonating a Warden, well, that didn’t matter as long as he was trying to help put things right now.

And then, finally, he was in the Storm Coast to meet The Iron Bull and his Chargers. He had little idea what to expect other than a mercenary company. Likely it meant swords. If he was lucky it meant archers, too. The weather was  _ miserable _ . He wondered if he could get away with changing it. Probably safer not to. Even so, he enchanted his boots to keep them dry as he spoke with Scout Harding.

“Your Worsh- uh, Master Ek’olis!” She bobbed her head as he approached. “For what it’s worth, welcome to the Storm Coast. I would have sent word sooner, but our efforts have been… delayed.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a group of bandits operating in the area. They know the terrain, and our small party has had trouble going up against them. Some of our soldiers went to speak with their leader. Haven’t heard back, though.”

Great, more missing soldiers. Ek’olis had a feeling it wouldn’t be Avvar this time. He kept his calm, knowing any outward display of frustration would put everyone off-kilter. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do to fix this. Any word on these… Chargers I’m supposed to meet?”

“They were camped on the beach just west of here last I saw. Should still be there.” Her brow furrowed in concern. “Well, good luck, and enjoy the sea air. I hear it’s good for the soul.”

Sea air was fine in Ek’olis’ book; he’d spent many a day on the deck of a ship, watching the world go by. All this damned miserable rain was just hard to see through, though. He liked rain when he could enjoy it from inside his home with a good book and a warm fire, not when he was stuck  _ in _ it and his hair was sticking to his face. It ruined a perfectly good landscape. The Storm Coast was probably beautiful when it was sunny, if it was ever sunny.

Nevertheless, there were things to be done, and meeting The Iron Bull was one of those things.

He set off down the embankment they’d set up camp at and headed west, moving slowly so he wouldn’t slip on the slick rocks. He heard Solas’ footsteps quicken to catch up with him and looked over at him. Solas said nothing, just kept his eyes forward and kept pace with Ek’olis as they approached the beach. The sounds of fighting greeted them and Ek’olis realized Solas was likely preparing for the battle ahead.

He sighed at his own lack of a staff and wondered where he’d set the most recent one down this time. It didn’t really matter; he rarely used them for magic even in his world. He just missed  _ his _ staff.

They rounded the corner and there was the battle: a number of warriors, an archer, a mage, all surrounded by men in Tevinter armor and holding their own. Ek’olis scowled. It wasn’t the  _ same _ armor he was used to, but it was still  _ clearly _ Tevinter. He assessed the battlefield while Varric and Cassandra stormed in and Solas sent lightning into the fray. He wouldn’t be able to use vines to tie down all of the Tevinter soldiers, not without also tripping up the Chargers. Still, he could do something.

He crouched down, placed his hands on the ground, and sent out magical energy. It was difficult to aim properly with everyone moving around, but he was able to snarl up a few of the Tevinter soldiers. The vines distracted them, and the Chargers dispatched them, and he let the vines recede into the ground again before he rose back up and started throwing fire and ice at the Tevinter soldiers.

Then he saw the kossith, and his breath caught. He towered over everyone else, just as tall as the kossith Ek’olis had known in his world. Maybe taller. He had to admit everyone looked tall to him.

The last Tevinter soldier fell and Ek’olis let the flames die on his fingertips and watched as the kossith assessed the battlefield.

“Chargers, stand down!” His voice was clearly authoritative. Between the horns and his attitude, this was almost certainly The Iron Bull. “Krem! How’d we do?”

“Five or six wounded, Chief. No dead.” The response was from a human, apparently The Iron Bull’s second.

“That’s what I like to hear. Let the throatcutters finish up, then break out the casks.” The Iron Bull turned away from Krem then and approached Ek’olis. “So, you’re with the Inquisition, huh? Glad you could make it. Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming.”

Ek’olis watched as The Iron Bull sat on a crate, but did not take a seat himself. He needed to at least  _ sort _ of meet The Iron Bull eye-to-eye, he felt.

“So… you’ve seen us fight. We’re expensive, but we’re worth it… and I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us.”

Ek’olis eyed The Iron Bull down, or perhaps it was up. He could tell that he was being sized up. He was sure that The Iron Bull knew  _ he _ was being sized up. It didn’t matter how much The Iron Bull made himself out to be just another mercenary, he was clearly perceptive, appraising. “The Chargers seem like an excellent company,” Ek’olis finally said.

“They are. But you’re not just getting the boys. You’re getting me. You need a frontline bodyguard, I’m your man. Whatever it is - demons, dragons? The bigger the better.” The Iron Bull rose from his seat as he spoke, walked away from the rest of the Chargers and from Ek’olis’ companions, and Ek’olis followed. “And there’s one other thing. Might be useful, might piss you off. Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?”

“No.” Ek’olis could honestly say he was clueless here. If this was a kossith thing, it was new. Well, newer than Ek’olis’ last exposure to the culture.

“It’s a Qunari order. They handle information, loyalty, security, all of it. Spies, basically. Or, well.  _ We’re _ spies.”

Ek’olis frowned. He’d never heard of Qunari. Were they a new governmental organization among the kossith? And The Iron Bull wasn’t just perceptive, he was a spy. He knew that stating up front that he was a spy would go a long way toward building trust, certainly. Likely, he was manipulating the situation for the best result in his book, or for the best result for his people. Ek’olis made a mental note to research all he could about Qunari and Ben-Hassrath when they reached Haven again.

“The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the Breach,” The Iron Bull continued. “Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports on what’s happening. But I also  _ get _ reports from Ben-Hassrath agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, I’ll share them with your people.”

Ek’olis kept frowning. He considered his words carefully, then spoke, subtle venom in his voice. “You run your reports past Leliana before sending them. You send nothing she doesn’t approve. If this turns out to be a trick, or if your reports compromise our mission, I will have your head on a stake.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

* * *

  
  
The soldiers that had gone to speak with the bandit leader were dead, but Ek’olis had ousted him and his men had pledged their loyalty to Ek’olis. Cassandra had raised an eyebrow at that, but it meant less deaths in the long run and more hands helping the Inquisition, and that was what really mattered as far as Ek’olis was concerned.

He thought on this, and everything else, as he walked around Haven, eyeing the defenses and all the pilgrims. There wasn’t enough room for the people who had already arrived, let alone all those yet to come. There were walls around the city but wooden walls wouldn’t stand up against a siege. Cullen had his men building siege weaponry to help defend the city, but such weapons were slow to load, slow to aim, slow to fire, and then you had to start the process over. Ek’olis still wasn’t sure who his enemy was, but if they were at all smart they would already have an army and Haven wouldn’t stand up against that. They needed to move. He wondered if he could convince them to uproot and follow him deeper into the mountains? Probably not. That was a lot to ask them to take on faith.

Even if faith was the entire foundation of his authority at that point.

And then there was the Qunari thing. There was no record of kossith settlements, or the people at all, in any of the books he’d looked through since they made it back to Haven. What there  _ was _ was information about a people who followed a strict governmental and religious body and who had made efforts to conquer parts of northern Thedas in recent years. They had a particularly poor relationship with Tevinter. The race was called Qunari, the government and religion and nation were the Qun.

It… bothered Ek’olis that there appeared to be no kossith in this world, and that he knew nothing of the Qun.

“Are you doing alright, Herald?”

Ek’olis looked up and found Cullen approaching him. “Just considering our next move.” And about a hundred other things, but Cullen didn’t need to know that.

“Ah, yes, that’s what we’re about to discuss in the Chantry, if you’ll join us.”

“Oh? Is there news?”

“So Leliana says.”

They fell silent as they headed toward the Chantry. Ek’olis was unclear on how to speak with Cullen the majority of the time, so conversations were always formal, stiff, and short. That was probably for the best since, despite swearing up and down he wasn’t a Templar anymore, Cullen still wore the Templar emblem and Templars certainly didn’t seem to be big fans of Ek’olis so far.

They entered the planning room at the back of the Chantry and Leliana passed a missive over to Ek’olis. She, Cassandra, and Josephine were already assembled, clearly just waiting for Ek’olis and Cullen to arrive.

“We’ve received word from Magister Alexius. It’s time to move against him.” Leliana’s tone was serious.

“We don’t have the manpower to take the castle,” Cullen said. “Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense and go and get the Templars.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister. This cannot be allowed to stand.”

“The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It’s an obvious trap.” Josephine, ever the voice of wisdom.

Even as Ek’olis looked over the letter he knew it was a farce. Alexius wanted him there for something. Probably for the mark on his hand. “How kind of him.”

“He’s so complimentary that we are certain he wants to kill you.” Leliana’s hands were folded behind her back. She looked to be the calmest person in the room.

“Not this again,” Josephine said.

Cullen scowled. “Redcliffe castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults.” He turned to Ek’olis, and his scowl turned to a look of concern. “If you go in there, you’ll die, and we’ll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won’t allow it.”

“And if we don’t even  _ try _ to meet Alexius, we lose the mages.” Leliana stepped forward, her hands falling from behind her back. “ _ And _ leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep.”

“Even if we  _ could _ assault the keep, it would be for naught,” Josephine countered. “An  _ Orlesian _ Inquisition’s army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied!”

Cassandra shook her head. “The magister…” she started.

 

“Has outplayed us,” Cullen finished.

“Not yet he hasn’t.” Ek’olis frowned, glaring daggers at Cullen for his defeatism. “There’s another way. There always is. Keep thinking. Redcliffe Castle isn’t just a fortress, it’s the Arl’s seat, right? I don’t know a damn leader anywhere in Thedas that doesn’t have a secret passage or two in their home in case of attacks. Don’t give me that look Cullen, I heard what you said about it being the most defensible fortress in Ferelden. That doesn’t change the fact that people make contingency plans.”

“Well…” Leliana started. “There  _ is _ a way. An escape route. I might… have the key. It’s too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through.”

“Too risky.” Cullen’s doubting was beginning to bother Ek’olis. “Those agents will be discovered long before they reach the Magister.”

“That’s why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly.”

“Focus their attention on the Herald, while we take out the Tevinters. It’s risky, but it could work.”

The door slammed open dramatically and Ek’olis rolled his eyes and turned to see Dorian, the dramatic - if pretty - Tevinter mage he’d met in Redcliffe.

“Fortunately, you’ll have help.” Dorian had clearly waited at the door for the right moment to burst in as dramatically as possible.

The scout trailing behind him finally caught up. “This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander.”

All eyes fell on Dorian and Ek’olis frowned at him. Dorian just smiled. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help. So if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

“The plan puts you in the most danger,” Cullen started. He was clearly going to say more. Ek’olis didn’t let him.

“I’ll be fine; danger is nothing new for me.” He turned his frown on Cullen now.

“Well, we can still go after the Templars if you’d rather not play the bait.”

“I said I’ll be fine. Leliana, go ahead and make the preparations. We leave for Redcliffe in the morning. Those mages don’t deserve to be indentured to that Magister, and we can’t just leave him in Redcliffe to do whatever he wants.” Not to mention he was using time magic, and if Ek’olis could interact with that magic he could invent an excuse to use similar magic later.

“Of course.” Leliana bobbed her head and left the room.

Ek’olis leveled Cullen with one more hard look before he nodded his head at Josephine and left. He heard Dorian following behind him as he left the Chantry and made his way through the town again.

“You know, I  _ knew _ when I met you that you couldn’t just be an Inquisition puppet. And here you are giving orders and bossing them around.”

Ek’olis rounded on Dorian and frowned at him. “Of course I am. They argue so much they’d never get anything done without someone stepping in and making a damned decision. The mark on my hand means they have to listen to me.”

“No, there’s more to it than that. They don’t only listen because of the mark. They listen because you’re  _ you _ . Something in your voice, something in the way you carry yourself makes them want to follow you. You could make people follow you to the end of the world.”

“The beginning.”

“What?”

“Something someone said to me once. I could make people follow me to the beginning of the world.” Ek’olis fought down the twisting in his gut.

“There you go then. I’m not the only one who sees a natural born leader when I look at you.”

Ek’olis walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip through time? Old hat. Putting up with an insufferable and oddly charming Tevinter mage? Much newer hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA WHOOPS LOOK AT THAT IT'S MUCH LATER THAN SEPTEMBER 15TH MY BAD Y'ALL. Please enjoy this chapter! I'll do my best to post the next chapter actually on time!
> 
> (Work's been crazy, and I'm meeting my state's governor later this week for my current project at work???? Me, with a freshly-dyed bright green mohawk, gonna shake hands with my governor??????????? Because I'm a robot nerd?????)

Ek’olis first became aware of a pounding in his head and the fact that he was sitting in water up to his chest. For half a second he dared to hope that he was back in his world, but that was a foolish hope and he knew it. He wouldn’t be sitting in water up to his chest if he were in his world. He opened his eyes and pushed himself to his feet in time to see two Tevinter soldiers come running in, swords drawn.  
  
“Blood of the Elder One,” one said.   
  
“Where’d they come from?” the other asked.   
  
Ek’olis frowned and swept his hand out in front of him, incinerating them both. He took the opportunity to look around the apparent cell he was in. It was old, eroded, flooded, and the walls were bursting with red lyrium. Someone hadn’t taken care of the place. And then he realized he wasn’t alone and that Dorian had just seen him incinerate two soldiers with a simple wave of his hand. Great.

“That’s a neat party trick,” Dorian said, accepting Ek’olis’ hand to haul himself up from the floor.

“Sure, if it’s a murderous party. Where are we?”

“I believe we’re still in Redcliffe.” Dorian took a look around the cell, apparently considering the room they were in. “Of course! It’s not simply where, it’s when. Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time.”

Perfect. Ek’olis didn’t smile, but he wanted to. “Alright, so how far did we go? And which direction?” That was always the problem with time magic: if you didn’t cast the spell, you didn’t know when you’d gone necessarily. He was banking on Dorian being familiar enough with Alexius to be able to answer his questions. If Ek’olis could get the answers, he could put them back where they came from.

“Those are excellent questions.” Dorian didn’t know the answers, then. “We’ll have to find out, won’t we? Let’s look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back. If we can.”

“We can get back.”

“You seem quite confident about that. I wonder why that is?”

“Watch closely and you might find out.” Ek’olis mustered up a smirk and tossed it in Dorian’s direction before leading the way out of the cell. Okay, telling an already perceptive and intelligent mage to watch even more closely was probably a bad idea, but if there was one thing Ek’olis was proud of, it was his magic.

The cells were practically a maze of stairwells and doorways, and red lyrium blocked a number of halls. They had to have moved forward in time, Ek’olis figured, or there wouldn’t be this much lyrium, red or otherwise. It bothered him, though, to see how much there was. For this to much to grow, he wondered how much time had passed. Decades?  
  
“I wonder,” he said, voicing the other thing that was bothering him, “who this Elder One is.”

“It seems likely we’ll find out, if we can make it back to our time.”

“No more of this ‘if’ nonsense,” Ek’olis snapped, stopping short and rounding on Dorian, who nearly crashed into him. “‘If’ isn’t going to help us get back.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look so frightening when you’re a good foot shorter than I am.”

Ek’olis frowned and turned away, continuing to work his way through the halls of Redcliffe’s dungeon. Finally he pushed open a door and found a suspended walkway, with guards at the other two doors along it. He’d already done more than Dorian needed to know he was capable of once, no reason to pretend he wasn’t powerful now. He threw his hands out toward the two guards and pushed air and force magic toward them, knocking them off the walkway into the chasm below.

Then he went through the door on the right, taking a chance. It led to another maze of doors and cells and stairwells and Ek’olis cursed under his breath as he wound through them.  
  
“Three hundred bottles of beer on the wall, three hundred bottles of beer…” a voice rang out. It sounded like The Iron Bull, but… not. “Take one down, pass it around… ugh.” It sounded like drinking songs weren’t passing the time very well.

Ek’olis approached The Iron Bull’s cell, entirely unsure what he was going to find. Then The Iron Bull turned around and his one eye was glowing red. He could only figure it was a result of prolonged exposure to red lyrium.

“You’re not dead,” The Iron Bull said, surprised. “You’re supposed to be dead. There was a burn on the ground and everything.”

“Alexius didn’t kill us,” Dorian explained as he opened the lock with a key he’d pulled off one of the guards. “His spell sent us through time. This is our future.”

“Well it’s _my_ present, and in my _past_ I definitely saw you both die.”

Ek’olis shrugged. “We’re going to fix this. Are you coming with us?”

“Why? You want to see what other tricks Alexius has learned?”

“Alexius can have learned how to stop the world from turning and I only _might_ bat an eye. I want to know who his Elder One is.”

“That’s smart. He killed the Empress of Orlais and used the confusion to launch an invasion of the South. The army was all demons. You ever fought a demon army? I don’t recommend it.”

“Whether I’ve fought a demon army or not is irrelevant, I figure,” Ek’olis said. “Because this Elder One isn’t going to have been able to raise a demon army at _all_ when we get back to the past and I get my hands on him.”

“Ooh, I _like_ that idea. Let’s get moving. No time like the present.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know what year it is, would you?” Ek’olis lead them through the maze again, looking for anything else that could help them.

“Not a clue. Could still be 9:41, could be 9:52 for all I know or care. I didn’t keep track. I’m not entirely convinced I kept track of my sanity, for that matter. You might be a vivid hallucination.”

“Well, I suppose talking to a vivid hallucination and finding a way out of here is better than singing drinking songs to yourself in a cell.” Ek’olis pushed open a door and stepped into another room full of cells. He was about to turn and leave when he heard a voice and froze.

“Is someone there?”

That was Solas’ voice, affected in the same way as The Iron Bull’s voice. Ek’olis’ gut twisted and his heart leapt into his throat. He managed to push himself forward, forced his heart back down into his chest, tried to calm himself, but what he saw drove his heart back into his throat and twisted his gut harder. Tears pricked at his eyes. Damn it all, this wasn’t _his_ Solas, why did seeing him suffer from exposure to red lyrium _hurt_ like this?

Ek’olis fumbled with the lock, popped it open with magic.

“You’re alive,” Solas said, breathless with surprise as he turned to face them, his eyes catching on Ek’olis’ face. “We saw you die.”

“The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time,” Dorian explained. “We just got here, so to speak.”

Ek’olis stepped back from the cell as Solas exited it, felt his hands shake. He tried to bite down on his upset, considered reaching for Solas, considered grabbing onto him and never letting go, but this was still a Solas who hadn’t built a relationship with him and he had to maintain his composure.

“Can you reverse the process?” Solas asked, his eyes still on Ek’olis’ face. “You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late.”

Ek’olis broke, reached up, let his fingers brush against Solas’ face, then pulled his hand back again. “We’re going back. We’re fixing this. I know we can.”

“That makes sense. Of course you can, if anyone can. This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass.”

Ek’olis shoved his heart back into his chest again and started to lead them out of the maze of cells, back toward the suspended walkway.

“You don’t happen to know what the date is, do you Solas?” Dorian asked somewhere behind him.

“I do not. Why?”

“I don’t know. Ek’olis asked Bull that, and I thought it might be important. I was really rather expecting him to ask you, too.”

“He seems preoccupied at the moment. Perhaps it slipped his mind.”

“Preoccupied… right…”

Ek’olis crossed the walkway to the third door, descended the stairs into another maze of halls and stairs and rooms and cells. This was truly horrible architecture. It practically required a map to get through, and it only made matters worse that so many of the halls were flooded. As he entered each room he checked all the cells, hoping against hope to find _someone_. Eventually he found Fiona, half consumed by red lyrium. It was disturbing to look at, really.

She looked toward them as the group approached. “You’re... alive? How?” Each breath was labored. The red lyrium had affected her far worse than the others. “I saw you… disappear… into the rift.”

“What is the date?” Ek’olis asked. “I need to know how much time has passed.”

“Harvestmere… 9:42… Dragon.”

“Nine forty- _two?_ ” Dorian repeated. “Then we’ve missed an entire year.”

“Well, we’re going back. We’ll make sure this never happens.” Ek’olis frowned. He hoped the others thought he was considering what to do next, but really he was wondering how soon he could take himself and Dorian back in time. Probably soon. Dorian already knew he was more powerful than he’d originally let on, after all, and it didn’t matter if anyone else in this timeline knew.

“You must… beware… Alexius… serves the Elder One. More powerful… than the Maker… No one… challenges him and lives.” It was clear that Fiona was in great pain.

“Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here,” Dorian said. “If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe.”

“Good.”

“I said ‘maybe.’”

Ek’olis nearly growled as he turned on Dorian again. “I told you to stop that. We’re getting out of here.”

“You really do believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. We need to get to the throne room. Amulet or not, it’ll be easier to make sure we end up back in the throne room if we _leave_ from the throne room.”

“What do you _mean_ ‘amulet or not?’ I just said I need it to send us back.”

“ _Y_ _ou_ might need it for that.” Ek’olis left the rest of what he meant unsaid as he stalked away back through the cells and toward the suspended walkway again. Dorian was clever. He’d pick up what was meant.

Ek’olis heard the drawbridge at the suspended walkway descend just as they returned to it. Either it was time for a change in guard, or they’d realized their prisoners were planning to break out. If it was the latter, it was foolish of them to lower the drawbridge; it saved Ek’olis the trouble of doing it himself. Once he could see them, he threw his hands forward and pushed the guards all off the platform and walkway, just like he had the others.

“You’re really quite good at that, you know,” Dorian said, following after Ek’olis as he stalked across the drawbridge.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Fight a lot of heavily armed soldiers on bridges, do you?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you suppose you could teach someone how to do that?”

“You already know how to do it.” Ek’olis didn’t know if he was heading in the right direction, but stairs leading up were good. “It’s the most basic of force magic, pushing things around. You just haven’t drawn on enough of the Fade to do it on that large of a scale yet.”

Stairs led into barracks led into a hallway of closed doors. He could hear arguments in a couple of the rooms, and he ignored them, ran past them.

“Shouldn’t we check that out?” The Iron Bull asked.

“I’d like to, but we need to keep moving. The best thing we can do for these people is make sure this never happened, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

There was another suspended walkway, and across that a room with a rift and a gate. The demons were easy enough to fight, and Ek’olis even chose to preserve most of his energy and let the others help in the battle. After the rift was closed, he drew open the gate. His companions were, for once, silent, and he was grateful for that.

More stairs led to the Redcliffe docks and an argument between two mages. Ek’olis arrived in time to see them become demons and he cursed and shouted and slung ice at them, encasing them, frozen forevermore. Or at least frozen until this timeline was erased from existence.

“This is madness,” Dorian said, shaking his head and looking at the demons. “Alexius can’t have wanted this.”

“Wanted or not, it’s what he got. Clearly this is what his _Elder One_ wanted.” Ek’olis shook his head and looked around the docks. This part of the castle he remembered, and it had not been riddled with red lyrium when he was last there. He followed the path from the docks through a door that would take him to the courtyard and when he stepped through he felt his stomach leap into his throat before he even saw what the Breach had become.

He swallowed his stomach back down, but even that could not save him from the feeling that the Breach was pulling him in. “It’s… it’s everywhere…” he managed to eke out. He didn’t know exactly how he was fighting the feeling of falling into the sky, but he was, and he moved on through the courtyard, fought demons and closed two rifts on autopilot before they were all in the castle again and he didn’t have to look at boulders and bits of broken statues floating in the air or that sickening green hole that the sky had become. His stomach started to settle again.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Ek’olis wasn’t sure when Solas had come up beside him, but he was at once grateful and hurt by his presence. “I will be. I’m going to fix this.”

“I know.”

Ek’olis stared at Solas for a moment and then pushed forward again, his breath caught. He carried himself along the path into the main hall of the castle, ignoring the side doors as he went. It didn’t matter what was in them; he already knew what the Elder One’s next moves were and he already knew what the date was. Getting back to where they had been before would be simple if they could just get to the throne room.

After more stairs, they were finally in the main antechamber, and it held Venatori soldiers and a number of demons and a rift. Ek’olis frowned at them all and dropped to the ground, splaying his hands flat along the cold stone floor. The floor under the demons and the soldiers shifted, shook, rippled, and opened wide, and they all fell down into the mess of it. The floor closed back up over top of them and when more demons spilled out of the rift Ek’olis simply waved a hand toward them and let them evaporate in a wave of heat.  
  
He could feel Solas’ eyes burning into the back of his head. There were a million things that he could say, maybe should say, but he ignored them, tethered to the rift, yanked it shut, and stalked toward the throne room. The doors had been replaced with something else, and the locking mechanism looked… familiar.

“Maker’s breath, where did Alexius find this?” Dorian asked, eyed the doors. “How did he even move it here?” He came up beside Ek’olis, placed a hand on it, inspected the locking mechanism. “We might be able to open it… It looks quite strong. How desperate and paranoid must he be? His servants must have a way through. He has to eat. Let’s look around.”

“No. Stand back.” Ek’olis looked over the locking mechanism again, traced his fingers over each empty slot, then spread his hands flat out over the two doors and closed his eyes, willed magic through his system, down his arms, and into the doors. He heard a series of gentle pings as the magic welled into the locking mechanisms. Finally, the door slid open and Ek’olis stalked through it, fire in his eyes.

He heard Dorian react to something as they neared Alexius and his eyes darted down to find Felix, changed, blighted, crouched by his father’s feet. He pursed his lips and looked back up at Alexius and at the base of the stairs he stopped, stood, waited for Alexius to face him.

The coward hesitated, stalled, pretended they were not there, but eventually he turned and just as he was about to speak, Ek’olis raised one hand up, palm out, fingers gently splayed, and then formed that hand into a fist. When he did this, Alexius dropped to the ground, pinned under hundreds, perhaps thousands of pounds of force magic.

Ek’olis turned and leveled his gaze on Dorian. “We’re going back. Now.”

“Fix this.” Solas stepped forward, grabbed one of Ek’olis’ hands, and Ek’olis nearly reeled back.

The closeness of Solas was almost a gaping wound. His gut twisted again and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he squared his jaw, nodded, leaned in close enough their noses almost touched with the way Solas was leaning down. “I will.”

“Ek’olis, you must fix _all_ of it. Not just the Elder One’s plans.” Solas shifted to one side, whispered into Ek’olis’ ear. “You must stop _my_ plans, too. Don’t let me do what I intend to do, Ek’olis.” He pulled back again and his eyes seemed to search Ek’olis’ face. “You are the only one who can do it.”

Ek’olis felt his heart leap into his throat again. “I know,” he choked out. He cleared his throat, breathed, and his free hand reached up, pressed to Solas’ cheek, pulled him down for one soft kiss. “I will.”

They parted, and Solas went back to stand by The Iron Bull as Dorian approached Ek’olis.

“What was all th-” Dorian started, but Ek’olis interrupted him.

“No. You’re not going to ask me that. You’re going to stand here, you’re going to put your hand on my shoulder, and we’re going back to where we were.”

And Dorian stood beside Ek’olis, put his hand on Ek’olis’ shoulder, and Ek’olis took a deep breath and closed his eyes and spread his arms out to either side of him and then they were back where they had been before their trip to the red lyrium infested future version of Redcliffe and Ek’olis was burning with anger as he rounded on Alexius.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian said as though he’d performed the spell that brought them back. Ek’olis didn’t mind. It would be easier to pretend Dorian had done it.

Alexius fell to his knees in front of them, looking for all the world like a broken and defeated man.

“It’s over, Alexius,” Ek’olis growled.

“You’ve won…” Alexius said. “There is no point extending this… charade.” He looked over to his son, eyes watering. “Felix…”

Felix crouched beside his father, smiled sadly at him. “It’s going to be alright, Father.”

“You’ll die.”

“Everyone dies.”

Ek’olis watched as Inquisition agents escorted Alexius away and Felix followed after them. The fire in his gut started to cool.

“Well! I’m glad that’s over with.” Dorian sounded too cheery for someone who had just seen a hellish possible future. And then the doors to the throne room opened and soldiers marched in, lined the halls. “...Or not.”

“Grand Enchanter.” The voice belonged to a man in perhaps his thirties with brown skin and reddish brown hair. He carried himself with an air of command, of nobility learned, but not born into. Ek’olis thought perhaps his gait had once looked like that, if shorter. “Imagine how surprised I was to learn you’d given Redcliffe Castle away to a Tevinter Magister.”

Fiona hesitated, head bowed low as she approached him. “King Alistair!” Ah, that was it. He was the King of Ferelden.

“Especially since I’m fairly sure Redcliffe belongs to Arl Teagan.”

“Your Majesty, we never intended…”

“I know what you intended.” King Alistair’s voice softened. It seemed sad somehow. “I wanted to help you, but you’ve made it impossible.” He hesitated, shook his head. “You and your followers are no longer welcome in Ferelden.”

“Now, wait a moment.” Ek’olis strode forward, interrupted the conversation, filled his voice with command and his own air of nobility learned and earned. “Before you go kicking the entirety of this group out of your nation, it might interest you to know what happened here. Surely one of those who ended the Fifth Blight and saved Ferelden knows that things are not always as cut and dry as we would like them to be.”

“Ah, you must be the Herald of Andraste.”

“So they say, although I don’t much like that title. Please, Your Majesty, call me Ek’olis, and let us speak for a moment. I’m happy to take the mages away from your land for the time being, although I understand that our current base of operations in Haven is still technically within your borders, but many of these mages have family in Ferelden that I am sure they would desperately wish to see again. I’d like to clear this entire disaster up, for their sake.”

Alistair seemed to consider him for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright, then tell me what happened, Ser Ek’olis.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what he saw at Redcliffe, Ek'olis is more certain than ever that this world will fall to ruin without him. Conveniently, what he saw at Redcliffe gives him another tool to fix everything. Less conveniently, the Tevinter mage is staying and saw an awful lot at Redcliffe, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm only a day late this time. That's an improvement, right?

“I still think we should have gone to the Templars, but-”

“We’re going to go to the Templars.” Ek’olis pored over a series of letters as he interrupted Cullen. “Or,  _ I’m _ going to, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“While we were in Redcliffe, Josephine was continuing to make contact and build treaties and alliances, and she received a letter from the Templar Order. I’ve caught the Lord Seeker’s attention.”

“Our latest intelligence suggests that the Templars are no longer in Therinfal Redoubt, though,” Leliana said, eyeing Ek’olis.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve got a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yes. Quite a good one, I think.” He shuffled through more of the papers. “Josephine, would you reassure a few of these nobles that I’m going to bring the Templars to heel?”

“Now, hold on, are you going to share your plan with us?” Cullen asked.

“Oh.” Ek’olis finally looked up. He’d forgotten, for a moment, that he wasn’t  _ actually _ in charge here yet. Just effectively. “Of course. Do you recall what I said about the time magic that Alexius used in Redcliffe?”

“That it sent you far into the future, but that you understood it well enough to bring you back to the present,” Leliana said, eyes almost lighting up as she put the pieces together.

“Yes. Well, I’m going to go to Therinfal Redoubt and use a similar spell to ensure that I arrive before the Templars leave.”

Cullen crossed his arms, looked doubtful. “How do you know it will work?”

“In Redcliffe I cast a spell to carry myself and Dorian through time by a year. Surely I can cast a spell that will carry me a week into the past.”

“You’re taking me as well,” Cassandra said. “If we’re going to be speaking with the Lord Seeker, I will be there.”

Ek’olis eyed Cassandra for a moment, then nodded. “That’s only reasonable.”

“You can’t go up there just the two of you. Who knows what you might find.” Cullen was frowning again. Doubting again.

“Of course we aren’t going just the two of us. We need someone with sharp eyes and good aim to watch our backs, and I intend to bring Solas, just to put a particularly fine point on the fact that it’s an elven mage they have to deal with if they want to fix the hole in the sky.” Ek’olis smiled calmly and pulled all the papers in front of him into a neat stack as he spoke, then handed them to Josephine. “And while we’re up there, I want you to start preparing people to move. Haven isn’t defensible enough for the sheer number of people we have here. We need to start looking for a new base of operations, something actually fortifiable against this Elder One and whatever his plans are. More than that, we need something with enough space for the people who have flocked to our banner already, and the people who are going to continue to do so.”

“I hope you have a plan for where we’re going to go.”

“Of course I do. If I could draw you a map, I would, but I can’t, so instead I just want you to be prepared to move everyone soon.” Ek’olis shrugged. “We’re getting the Templars, we’re closing the Breach, and then we’re leaving Haven. This city isn’t defensible, and we both know it.”

“You want to just uproot every-”

“He’s not wrong, Cullen,” Leliana said, tapping the point on the map where Haven sat. “We have walls, yes, but if this Elder One is as powerful as Alexius has insinuated, our walls and siege weapons won’t protect us.”

“And we have  _ civilians _ here,” Ek’olis said, crossing his arms and frowning up at Cullen. “We can’t make them leave, especially when half of them are refugees with no home, but we can move the entire Inquisition somewhere safer.”

“Alright, fine then. We’ll start packing up non-essentials and when you come back from Therinfal Redoubt we’ll finish packing up the rest.” Cullen frowned and picked up a clipboard and his own papers, likely a to-do list. “Assuming you close the Breach within the next day after your return, we can move the Inquisition the following day, giving everyone time to celebrate and  _ you _ time to rest.”

_ I won’t need to rest, _ Ek’olis thought. “That sounds good to me. Josephine, I’m relying on you to calm the nobles and… whoever else is most anxious about the Templars being rogue. Cassandra, it’s still early, we’re leaving today. Leliana… I know you’re already keeping an eye on them, and I know King Alistair has agreed to send some of his soldiers as guards, but I’d like you to continue to do everything in your power to ensure the mage caravan arrives here safely. I’m going to… get ready to leave, I suppose.”

He didn’t listen for responses, just stepped out of the room and down the main hall of the Chantry, ignored various eyes on him as he left the building. When he was outside and saw nobody around, he took the chance to rub his eyes. Exhaustion stung them. As tired as he was, he hadn’t been able to let himself sleep after Redcliffe. Not really. Not well enough to actually be rested.

“Ek’olis.”

Ek’olis looked up when he heard the voice, found Solas watching him. He hadn’t heard him approach.

“I was just looking for you,” Solas said, watching Ek’olis with apparent concern. “You aren’t doing well, are you?”

“I suppose it’s obvious.” Ek’olis frowned first at the ground and then at Solas.

“What you saw in Redcliffe clearly shook you.”

He knew Solas was inviting him to talk about it. With a sigh, he started toward the city gates. This time he heard Solas’ footsteps behind him, slow and even and steady. Ek’olis hated to admit it, but this Solas’ presence was becoming more of a comfort every day, especially after Redcliffe. They made it to the gate before Ek’olis turned around again.

“It did,” he said, his gut twisting as he watched Solas’ face. “It shook me, and it hurt, and it’s not going to leave my mind for a very long time. It will linger even after all of this is done, even after we’ve prevented the Elder One from destroying this world, even after I have gone back home.” He didn’t need to say “even after I have prevented  _ you _ from destroying this world.” Solas would have picked that up without it being said.

Solas nodded, almost imperceptibly, and continued watching Ek’olis’ face. For a moment, the world seemed to still, then Ek’olis turned again and walked through the gate and around to the stable to lead the hart out. He felt Solas’ eyes on him the entire time he spoke to the hart, soothed it, asked it to help him. Once he was astride the hart he buried his face in its mane and sighed. When he looked up again he saw Cassandra and Varric at the gate and Solas on his horse heading down the road away from Haven.

“...We’ll wait farther up ahead,” Ek’olis said, nodding to Cassandra before he spurred the hart on to catch up with Solas.

They rode in silence for several minutes, almost the picture of two old friends, and then Solas looked sharply over at Ek’olis.

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

Ek’olis couldn’t look over. He just frowned at the road. “I haven’t been avoiding the Fade, if that’s what you’re implying. I just can’t… keep my eyes closed right now.” He took a deep breath, tried to still the twisting in his gut. “I told you, what I saw will live in me for a long time to come… and right now it’s still a fresh enough wound to keep me from proper sleep, to keep me from dreaming.”

“Let me help you.”

Ek’olis looked over then, and all he could read on Solas’ face and in his eyes was concern. Maybe somewhere down the road they’d built the foundations for actual trust, rather than just holding each other aloft over a pit full of spikes. Then he shook his head and looked back to the road.

“It’s going to come eventually, whether you want it to or not. Accept it. Let me help you.”

Ek’olis sighed and looked up into the morning sky, then back over to Solas. “Alright.”

Solas seemed to study Ek’olis face then, his brow still furrowed ever so slightly with concern. “What happened in Redcliffe?”

His gut twisted harder and his heart leapt into his throat. He knew he was tired enough that he looked as upset as he felt for once. “I found you… infected with red lyrium.” He looked at the ground as they ambled past it, took a deep breath, released it slowly, then looked back up at Solas. “I… it affected me heavily.”

“Because of your relationship with the Solas in your world.”

“Because of my relationship with you in  _ any _ world, Solas,” Ek’olis snapped. “You and the Solas of my world are not so different.” He jerked his head forward again and urged the hart on faster, putting distance between himself and Solas. It hurt to admit it to himself, but he  _ had _ started associating those harbored feelings of attachment and peace with this Solas, too. Circumstances may have been very different, but they were not different people. Spending weeks, months sharing ideas and points of view with him had shown that.

He let the hart slow again, and after some time Solas caught back up, but neither of them spoke. Eventually they were joined by Cassandra and Varric and, again, nobody spoke, even as Ek’olis and his hart fell behind to let Cassandra lead the group on their way. After some time, Solas fell back to join him again.

“I am sorry, Ek’olis. I hadn’t realized…” Solas’ voice trailed off, even for as low as his voice had been.

“There is no reason for you to have realized.” Ek’olis shook his head, sighed, tried and failed to look over at Solas. “I wasn’t exactly… making it known.”

“Until Redcliffe.”

“Until Redcliffe,” Ek’olis echoed, affirming the statement. “You… infected by red lyrium… were a shock to me. Seeing you in such a state was…” He lost his voice.

“I can only imagine.”

“It has been painful enough to see you here when I am in love with you in another world. Seeing you lose the entirety of yourself to red lyrium because  _ I _ did not stop this Elder One in his goals…” He frowned, considered his words, took a breath. “It broke something within me, Solas.”

“And you realized that the feelings you harbor for my other self, you harbor for me as well.”

Ek’olis looked down at the hart’s mane and nodded. “Your lives have been different, but you are the same person he was when I first met him. Outraged by what the world had become, determined to make it better in whatever way was necessary. I talked him out of the things that you plan on doing, and he agreed to try things my way first. I built the Dales and he helped me, and our world became one of peace and cooperation. He left his plans behind because they weren’t  _ necessary _ to build a world in which our people could live happily, instead of being subjugated by the Evanuris or by humans.”

Solas said nothing, but Ek’olis could feel his gaze. He wondered what Solas thought of everything he was saying, what Solas thought of  _ him _ .

“Before Dorian and I left that future, you…” He sighed again, gripped the hart’s mane tight and looked over at Solas. “You asked me to fix everything. To stop the Elder One and to stop you. You said I was the only one who could do it.”

They fell to silence again, just looking at each other for a short time. Then Ek’olis shook his head and looked forward again. “Anyway that’s… it, I suppose.”

Silence reigned for a long moment again, and Ek’olis couldn’t have said whether it was a minute or an hour. Well, he could if he looked at the sky, but he was preoccupied by worry over how Solas was going to react, or if he would at all. He heard Solas breathe in deeply and exhale slowly and he looked over again.

“You care very deeply about many things, don’t you, Ek’olis?” After another moment of silence, Solas spoke again. “And about me.”

“I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intent, I just… I can’t really  _ help _ it. I have hundreds of years of history with you that you do not have with me, and for all I’ve tried to keep my distance I can’t-”

“I did not say it made me uncomfortable.”

The twisting in Ek’olis’ gut stopped and he closed his eyes and breathed deeply and easily for the first time in a week. “That’s… a relief.”

“In truth I’ve come to value our time together.”

“And you don’t feel like…”

“Like you’ve been pressuring me to see you the way my counterpart in your world does? No. You’ve made it quite clear that you expect nothing of the sort from me.”

Ek’olis opened his eyes again and his heart leapt into his throat when he found Solas still staring at him.

“Ek’olis, I can’t speak to whether or not you will succeed in diverting me from my plans. For all you know me, and for all I apparently told you to stop me in that future in Redcliffe, I still believe, in this moment and in this world, that it is the only course of action I can take.”

“I know you do. I know how strongly you feel about it, Solas. But I also know that we have a lot of time between now and when you have the power to do what you want to do. And you and I have long lives ahead of us that we could spend talking about the world and how to change it.”

Solas seemed to search Ek’olis' face for a moment, two, three, then he nodded. “I will grant you that… and I sincerely hope you succeed in changing my mind.”

“Right now all I want to do is convince you to postpone it. Give me a chance to change things. I’m already laying the groundwork.” Ek’olis had spoken to King Alistair about a number of things, not just the mages, and they’d agreed to later meetings to discuss how best to ensure that elves had a standard of living equal to humans in Ferelden.

“Well… perhaps that will be more feasible than dissuading me from my course entirely.”

Ek’olis smiled weakly. “Perhaps.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time travel, demons, and spirits, oh my! Ek'olis discovers what's in store for him at Therinfal Redoubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a few days early, partially to make up for being late the last couple months and partially because I will be in no state to post anything on the 15th this month because I'll be spending my whole day after class playing Pokemon Shield.
> 
> Love y'all.

“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be- y-you’re the Herald of Andraste!”

Ek’olis frowned at the Templar speaking to him. “Evidently, despite my protests. I know you didn’t know I was coming. Find whoever I’m supposed to be speaking with, please.”

“Yes, of course, right away, Your Worship.” The Templar hurried away into the keep as he spoke, nearly tripping over himself.

“I wish they’d stop calling me that,” Ek’olis said, scowling. “These aren’t titles I asked for.”

Solas arched an eyebrow at Ek’olis. “You know as well as anyone that we do not get to choose our titles.”

“Doesn’t stop me being made increasingly uncomfortable by them.” He turned his attention back toward the main gate of the keep when another templar walked through. “Ah, are you who I’m meant to speak to?”

“Yes, Your Worship. I’m Knight-Templar Delrin Barris. I’m the one who sent word to Cullen. He said the Inquisition works to close this breach in the Veil.” Barris seemed worried, more than anything. “The promise of status for working with you has garnered attention from the Lord Seeker… beyond sense. The sky burns with magic, but he ignores all calls to action until you gain prestige.”

Ek’olis frowned and waved Cassandra over. “Should a Seeker lead the Templars in this manner?”

“In an emergency, if there’s no other recourse,” Cassandra said, “but his goal should be to restore them to order.” She seemed as concerned as Barris, perhaps more.

“He has taken command,” Barris offered. “Permanently.”

“If he feels there is a holy mandate…”

“That is what the Lord Seeker claims, and our commanders parrot him.” He sighed and stepped closer to Ek’olis, lowering his voice. “The Lord Seeker’s actions make no sense. He promised to restore the order’s honor, then marched us here to wait. Templars should know their duty, even when held from it. Win over the Lord Seeker, and every able-bodied knight will help seal the Breach.”

“You seem very certain that the Lord Seeker’s actions are out of line. Why not simply bring your other dissenters and work with us now, of your own volition, instead of waiting for the Lord Seeker to  _ tell _ you to carry out your duties?” Ek’olis watched Barris’ face, reading his reaction.

“We can’t abandon our orders… not while the officers who survived the Conclave follow him.” Barris frowned, but maintained his composure. “We’ve been asked to accept much after that shameful display in Val Royeaux. Our truth changes on the hour.”

Ek’olis could see where Barris was coming from. If their officers were compromised by the demon, then leaving meant abandoning the structure the Templars were used to. People trained to obey hierarchy and structure wouldn’t do well suddenly being thrust into a situation where they were all equal to each other. He shifted his attention to the gate that rolled open behind them, and he followed Barris through into the main courtyard of Therinfal Redoubt.

“The Lord Seeker has a... request before you meet him.” He lead the way to a wall with a series of three tapestries. “These are the standards, an honored rite centered on the people, the Maker, and the order. The Lord Seeker asks that you perform the rite so he may see the order in which you honor them.”

“What exactly is he looking for?”

“Well, there is no correct answer. The ritual simply shows watchers who you are and what you value.”

Ek’olis eyed the tapestries. “Alright, I suppose I can play his game.”

Barris turned to Ek’olis and seemed to consider him for a moment. “The Lord Seeker changed  _ everything _ to meet you. I don’t know why, but he’s been fixated on you ever since he learned you were garnering support from nobles across Ferelden and Orlais.”

“Not a game then,” Ek’olis muttered, but he stepped toward the mechanisms and eyed the tapestries. One bore the Chantry’s sun, another Ferelden’s flag, and the final the flaming sword of the Templar Order. The Maker, the people, and the order, then. With no hesitation, Ek’olis raised the tapestry symbolizing the people to its highest point and turned around, looking expectantly at Barris.

Barris looked from Ek’olis to the tapestries and then back to Ek’olis before folding his arms behind his back and standing up straighter. “Traditionally, a participant in the rite now explains their choices to those assembled.”

Ek’olis glanced back at the tapestries for a moment before straightening to his full five feet of height and saying in the most commanding voice he could muster - a voice which, admittedly, was commanding enough to demand the attention of thousands if necessary - “Nobles and politicians and armies and religions are nothing if they do not serve the people. It is as simple as that.”

Barris nearly smiled, Ek’olis noticed. Evidently it was a view he shared. Good.

“The Lord Seeker awaits you. Please, follow me.” Barris said, nodding once to Ek’olis before leading him through the courtyard and into the keep proper.

The room they entered was nothing fancy, but in all honesty it didn’t seem that Therinfal Redoubt had seen much use in recent years, at least not until the Templars had retreated to it. Inside were a number of Templars, but no demon. One Templar approached, and appeared to catch Barris by surprise.   
  
“Knight Captain!”

“You were expecting the Lord Seeker,” the Knight Captain said. “He sent me to die for you.”

Ek’olis and Barris shared a look of subtle confusion before turning their attention back on the Knight Captain, who was chuckling.

“This is the ‘grand alliance’ we are being offered?”

Ek’olis frowned. Something seemed very  _ off _ to him about the Knight Captain. With his helm on, though, his eyes were obscured, and that made it very difficult for Ek’olis to tell what, exactly, it was. “Knight Captain Denam, I am expected by the Lord Seeker. Where is he?”

“The Lord Seeker had a plan, but the Herald ruined it by arriving with purpose. It sewed too much dissent.”

Barris rushed forward, confusion and concern in his eyes. “Knight Captain, I must know what’s going on.”

“You are all supposed to be changed. Now we must  _ purge _ the questioning knights!”

More Templars entered the room and  _ these _ ones Ek’olis  _ could _ read. They were heavily affected by red lyrium, and the image of Solas infected flashed through his mind and his gut twisted and he felt anger boil up within him as he pulled Barris back.

“The Elder One is coming!” Denam was beginning to sound deranged now. Clearly what had felt  _ off _ about him was his own red lyrium affliction. “No one will leave Therinfal who is not stained red.”

Denam’s ramblings were drowned out in Ek’olis hearing by his own blood rushing and his heart pounding. Red lyrium was a blight upon the world, and this Elder One needed to be stopped, but there and then he needed to focus on stopping every infected Templar in Therinfal Redoubt.

He pushed Barris behind him and barely heard his companions begin fighting as he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, tugging gently at strings. Somewhere he found the thread of red lyrium and it burned to think about it, but he could use it. When he opened his eyes again he drew runes into the air in front of him, fire trailing off his fingers, and then every infected Templar in the room dropped to the ground, burning from within.

“Quickly now!” Ek’olis snapped, turning and shaking Barris. “We have to move if we’re going to save your fellow Templars who are  _ not _ infected and stop whatever the Lord Seeker has planned.”

Barris had seemed to be in shock, but he came to attention when Ek’olis quite literally shook him out of it. “Right, yes, of course. You’re right.” He drew his sword and headed toward the door. “This way, then! I’ll help you get through.”

They fought their way through the keep, a little at a time, Ek’olis carefully guiding the battle so that only those who were infected were attacked by his companions. It was easy, now that he could see the red lyrium burning within them.

“Prepare them. Guide them to me.”

Ek’olis heard the voice in his head and he frowned, tried to shake it away as he kept moving. 

Solas caught up to him, leaned in close. “What is it?” He was concerned.

“The Lord Seeker’s voice in my head. He is a  _ demon _ , Solas.” Ek’olis pushed forward still, reached out in his mind to every thread of red lyrium in front of him, and pushed fire down each of their throats.

“You will be so much more!” The Lord Seeker’s voice resounded again, and Ek’olis shook his head, surged forward. He knew nobody else was hearing what he was hearing. He could shut the voice out with a thought, certainly, but there was a hope inside of him that maybe the Lord Seeker, this demon, would tell him something.

The battle continued. Solas stuck close to Ek’olis even as Ek’olis drew runes in the air. Cassandra threw herself at every infected Templar she could find, and Barris joined her. Varric stayed farther behind, Bianca at the ready to take down any enemy that came too close to Ek’olis or Solas. Normally Ek’olis didn’t need the added protection, although he would never say it, but in that moment he was grateful for it. With his mind split between spells and keeping track of who was infected and listening for the Lord Seeker to slip up, he couldn’t watch his own back for once.

“I would  _ know _ you.”

“That’s it,” Ek’olis hissed, and he turned to Solas. “He’s an Envy Demon. I think he wants to  _ replace _ me.”

“He’s in for quite the surprise, then.” Solas almost smiled, and Ek’olis’ heart leapt into his throat as they continued through the keep, fighting their way toward where they could only hope the Lord Seeker awaited them.

He did close his mind, though, satisfied he’d learned what he needed to know before approaching the demon. It would want to see what was in his head, and Solas was right. It  _ would _ be in for a surprise.

Finally they reached the steps to what Ek’olis had to assume was the main hall of the keep. It seemed likely that the Lord Seeker, the Envy Demon, would be waiting for him there, and he stalked up the steps, mulling over last-minute decisions in his mind as he went. And then there he was, the Lord Seeker, his back turned. Really it was no surprise. He was so  _ sure _ of himself, so  _ confident _ . He couldn’t  _ imagine _ a world where Ek’olis would be an actual threat to him.

Ek’olis couldn’t wait to show him how wrong he was. He stalked forward, and when the Lord Seeker whipped around, grabbed him, and pulled him forward, he was ready. He closed his eyes, played along, and let the Demon into his head.

It was disorienting, but not entirely unfamiliar, to be forcefully pushed into the Fade from a waking state, and he found himself in a mix of wilderness and the keep, magic bubbling from cracks in the walls and ground. The Demon, of course, had hidden itself as far away from Ek’olis’ consciousness as it thought it could be. Ek’olis smiled to himself and decided to play along, for now. After all, he knew where the Envy Demon was hiding, and he knew that the most important things in his mind were already closed away.

He strode forward instead, steps confident even as he was shown images of the burning bodies from the Temple of Andraste and false images of Cullen and Josephine. A false Leliana appeared from behind them.

“Is this shape useful,” the Envy Demon asked. “Will it let me know you? Everything tells me about you.” It moved around in its Leliana mask and held a knife to the false Cullen’s throat. “So will this. Watch.”

Ek’olis said nothing, simply watched, stony-faced, as the demon slit the false Cullen’s throat and let him crumple to the ground. The false Leliana backed away, disappearing through a wall, and the false Josephine stepped forward, laughing.

“Being you will be so much more interesting than being the Lord Seeker.” She disappeared in front of Ek’olis and he didn’t bat an eye when she suddenly walked through him from behind. “Do you know what the Inquisition can become?” She disappeared again. “You’ll see. When I’m done, the Elder One will kill you and ascend, then I will  _ be _ you.”

Ek’olis didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t speak, just waited. The Envy Demon would eventually become frustrated when he realized that he would get nothing from Ek’olis.

“Glory is coming, and the Elder One wants you to serve him like everyone else: by dying in the right way.”

Ah, that was right. Celene needed to die for the Elder One’s plans. It needed to happen in a specific way, then. And the army of demons was likely created through ritual sacrifice. He wondered to himself, as he watched and waited, who the Elder One intended to sacrifice for his demons.

The false Josephine walked away and the false Cullen approached from behind Ek’olis.

“I am Envy, and I  _ will _ know you.” It was becoming frustrated. “Tell me,  _ Herald _ , in your  _ mind _ …” The false Cullen stabbed a shoddy mirror image of Ek’olis in the back. The false Ek’olis lacked substance, really. “Tell me what you  _ think _ .” Then the false Cullen was suddenly leaning over the war table from the Chantry. “Tell me what you  _ feel _ .” Again the image was replaced, this time by the substance-less false Ek’olis crumpling to the ground, holding his gut.   
  
“Tell me what you see.” The Envy Demon had dropped Cullen’s voice. Good. That meant it was even more frustrated.

He watched a doorway assemble itself in a wall and saw the door swing open and he quietly walked through, content to make the Demon wait. His mind was locked up tight. The Envy Demon was finding no purchase and he could  _ feel _ it scrabbling for any grip. He also felt another presence, though. Smaller, quieter, almost familiar, it creeped through and seemed to be seeking him. Perhaps he would help it along.

As he opened a pathway for the smaller presence he realized it: Compassion had crept in, thinking to help, not realizing until it was present that Envy was trying to break Wisdom. And here he’d accidentally locked the poor thing in with the Demon.

“You didn’t mean to.” The voice was almost soft, and when Ek’olis looked over he saw a boy with a wide-brimmed hat, his face obscured by the brim and his straw-blonde hair. “You didn’t notice me at first. It’s not your fault.”

Ek’olis couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t spoken with a Spirit of Compassion in some time. “Understanding as ever, then…” he murmured, then to the spirit. “You came to help, though. The least I can do is help you get back out of the trap I’ve set. After all, you weren’t what I was aiming to catch.”

“You let it think it was in control and now it knows it isn’t. It’s looking for a way out. You scare it, but it doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what you are. I know.”

“Well, Envy always was a coward. Shall we end this, Compassion?”

“Cole.”

Ek’olis stared at the boy for a moment. He wasn’t entirely spirit anymore, it seemed. In fact, he was much closer in nature to what Ek’olis was. “Cole, then,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get out of my head and let Envy know he’ll find nothing here to use against me.”

When Cole nodded, Ek’olis straightened up and let his smile fall away, closed his eyes, breathed deeply. He could hear the Envy Demon screeching in the corner of his mind as he began to force it out, and then, suddenly, they were standing at the top of the stairs again and the Lord Seeker wasn’t the Lord Seeker anymore, but the long limbs of the Envy Demon.

Fire burned through Ek’olis veins as he reached forward and grabbed the Demon, and before anyone else could react to its presence, before the Demon could do anything to escape, he engulfed it in flame. It writhed and flailed and shrieked as it burned, acrid smoke coiling into the air, and then, eventually, it was gone.

“That was a  _ demon _ ,” Cassandra said, coming up to stand beside Ek’olis.

“It was Envy. It wore the Lord Seeker’s face, and it wanted to wear mine. Now it wears nothing and  _ is _ nothing. How are the Templars faring?”

Barris approached, sheathing his sword. “Those infected by the red lyrium have all either died or retreated. We… have work to do, locating stores of lyrium that are not infected and explaining to all those remaining exactly what… well, what happened, but… Well, when we’ve done with that I’m sure we would be honored to assist you with the Breach. After that I… suppose we’ll see what comes.”

Ek’olis nodded, frowning slightly. “Then we’re going to regroup ourselves… You have a week to discuss amongst yourselves and recoup. We’ll be back then to meet with you and discuss terms.”

As he turned to leave he saw Cole out of the corner of his eye and nodded slightly for him to follow as he descended the stairs and led his party out of the keep and back to where they’d initially stepped out of time. The boy seemed to disappear, but hopefully he understood.

Sure enough, Cole appeared next to Ek’olis as they approached the place they’d stepped out of time. Cassandra reacted by drawing her sword and Ek’olis just grabbed Cole’s shoulder and turned them both to face the others.

“Meet Cole,” he said, a smile on his face that he was sure the others found uncharacteristic. “He helped me with the Envy Demon.”

“Helped you?” Cassandra asked, glaring daggers at the boy.

“Yes. He slipped into my head when the Demon did to try and prevent him from taking me.”

“It wanted to hurt him, to hurt everyone, to help the Elder One. I wanted to help - I  _ want _ to help - seal the sky. Everyone is scared and helpless but they are trying. I can, too.” Cole’s voice was earnest and sincere. The waver in it was likely a result of his physical form, not his emotions.

“And I will welcome his help.” Ek’olis dropped his hand from Cole’s shoulder and the boy slipped away again, his disappearance undoubtedly gone unnoticed by the rest of the party. “Now as to the rest of the plan, I believe it’s time to step forward a week again.”

Everyone chained together, hands on shoulders, and Ek’olis pushed them through time again, the familiar sensation of being pulled along from the inside first to a new point coursing through him. He would be queasy when they arrived, after two jumps in one day. The others would fare worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I never liked that you can't save the mages AND give the Templars what-for in Inquisition. Let me do both! LET ME MEET CALPERNIA.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ek'olis has saved the mages, brought the Templars to heel, and closed the Breach. What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY early update because I realized I'm going to be absolutely swamped next month and probably won't be able to update. My semester ends on December 15th, and I have to go into full-on holiday & full-time work mode immediately after that. So, uh, surprise?
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter, it's my favorite so far of the 30-ish chapters of this fic I have written.

It was done. The Breach was closed. The mages and Templars had, for the time being, set aside their differences and helped Ek’olis seal the Breach - although he supposed he hadn’t really needed the help. And they were all back in Haven, the people drinking and dancing and generally celebrating while Ek’olis, who was rarely given to celebration, looked out over them. It was good they were celebrating now. The trip to their new base of operations would be long. He only hoped that enough of them wouldn’t be hungover the next day to keep them from needing to postpone the journey.

He heard footsteps in the snow behind him, continued looking out at the people, but he spoke, knowing that whoever approached him would listen. He had earned that much, at least. “The sky is going to look different for a long time to come… but the Breach is closed. Still, that didn’t close the rifts around Thedas, and the Elder One remains at large. We have more work to do.”

“That may be so,” Cassandra said, coming to a stop beside him. “But word of your heroism has spread.”

“Then we’ll have the support of the people as we put a stop to the Elder One’s plans.” Ek’olis nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. Their smiling faces did bring some comfort to him, he supposed.

But, like all things, it wasn’t made to last, and the sound of an army marching on Haven drew Ek’olis’ attention. “Quick, to the gates,” he snapped to Cassandra, and he leapt off the ledge and pushed through the panicked crowd and surged toward the gates, barely noticing as others joined him.

“Cullen, report,” Ek’olis said, eyes just catching on Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine.

“One watchguard reported. It’s a massive force, the bulk over the mountain.”

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked.

“None, I’d wager,” Ek’olis said, stalking toward the gate and throwing it open. He caught a Venatori soldier off guard, called lightning to his fingertips and pressed his open palm to the soldier’s armor, watching with cold eyes as they fell. He felt Cole’s presence appear beside him.

“They’re coming to hurt you. Mages and Templars who fell through the cracks; they went to the Elder One. You know him, he knows you. You took his forces.” Cole pointed out into the mass toward an overhang. “There.”

Ek’olis saw something, maybe someone, with red lyrium jutting out of their body, flanked on either side by a mage and a warrior. He shuddered and turned back to the others, noticing finally that everyone had assembled to make a plan of some sort. They were watching him expectantly.

“Alright,” Ek’olis said, falling into leadership easily now, as he had for centuries. “We were planning on leaving anyway. This just means we leave tonight instead of tomorrow, but we need to slow them down at the _very_ least. Get all the civilians into the Chantry for now. Everyone else, be prepared to fight. We need to get those siege weapons up and running, hit them with everything we can to buy time for the others to get out of here.”

“Understood,” Cullen said, then turned to the assembled soldiers, Templars, and mages. “You have your orders. Stand with the Herald.”

Ek’olis turned, eyed everyone else carefully. “Cassandra, Vivienne, Sera, I want you to get all the civilians to safety by whatever means necessary and then when it’s safe I want you to get them _out of this city_. The rest of you are with me. We’re going to do what we can out here.”

“Your Worship, respectfully, I _must_ -” Cassandra started, but was interrupted by Vivienne.

“He’s right, Seeker. You are well-respected and therefore best suited to the task of organizing the civilians. Slowing this army helps nobody if the people under our protection are not safe.”

* * *

Fighting through waves of demons and mages and Red Templars had been tiring, but they’d managed to clear the way for Inquisition soldiers, Templars, and mages to man and protect the siege weaponry themselves. Eventually they arrived at the last one and Ek’olis aimed it himself, carefully aligning it so that when he fired it would, hopefully, cause an avalanche and bury much of the advancing army, preventing their continued passage.

It had worked as planned, and Ek’olis watched in satisfaction as snow barreled down over the Elder One’s forces. He heard cheers rise up, and then he heard an all-too familiar screeching and he immediately turned his face toward the sky, searching too late for the dragon that was already hurtling fire at the trebuchet beside him. It burst into burning pieces and he was flung aside by the force of it, drew himself back up onto his feet as quickly as possible.

They needed a new plan.

And so the Inquisition’s leadership was back in the Chantry, having herded those remaining civilians into the building, even pulling them out of smoldering ruins and carrying them in where necessary.

“Herald!” Cullen walked over when he spotted Ek’olis. “Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.”

“I’ve seen an Archdemon,” Cole said, looking up from where he crouched beside Chancellor Roderick. “I was in the Fade, but it looked like that.”

Ek’olis frowned. “I don’t know that it’s an Archdemon, but it’s just made it much harder for us to get everyone out of here safely.”

“The Elder One doesn’t care about Haven. He only wants you.”

“Then…” Ek’olis looked down at the mark on his hand, considered his options. “Then I’ll go out there and give him what he wants.”

“You will not!” Cullen snapped. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide-”

“That would bury Haven, and our people with it, Cullen. We’re not doing that.”

“We’re dying, but we can decide how.”

“And _I’m_ deciding that _we’re not doing that_.”

“Chancellor Roderick can help.” Cole appeared beside Ek’olis, grabbed his sleeve. “He wants to say it before he dies.”

“There is a path,” Roderick said, his voice weak. “You wouldn’t know it unless you’d made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. The people _can_ escape. She must have shown me- _Andraste_ must have shown me so I could… tell you.”

Ek’olis eyed Roderick, then nodded sharp and looked to Cullen again, eyes darting past him as he watched a few others return from the back of the Chantry. “Help Roderick get everyone out of here that isn’t already gone. Head into the mountains for now, and fire a signal arrow when you’re all clear of Haven. I’ll keep it’s attention.”

“And what about you?” Cullen asked.

Lips pursed, Ek’olis just looked past Cullen to Solas, who was shaking his head.

“You can’t be serious,” Solas said, brushing past Cullen to stand in front of Ek’olis. “You will be giving yourself up to the Elder One.”

Ek’olis scowled up at Solas. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Clearly you do not! You will die out there to save these people and in the process damn them! Without your mark the Inquisition cannot-”

Ek’olis grabbed Solas by the collar of his shirt, dragged him down and interrupted him with a forceful kiss. “Trust me, vhenan. I know what I’m doing.” Then he released Solas. “ _Y_ _ou_ are the only other person who knows how to get where I wanted to take the Inquisition. Take them to Tarasyl'an Te'las. I’ll join you when I’m done here.”

Solas stared at him in wonder and worry for a moment, then shook his head. “You cannot mean to go out there alone.”

“I can and I do. Get everyone to safety. I’ll be _fine_.” He turned and stalked out of the Chantry after that, intending to hear no other arguments.

As the door closed behind him, he heard everyone inside moving toward the back of the Chantry, hopefully going to lead the people to safety. He turned his head to the sky, eyes tracking the dragon overhead. He needed its attention, which ultimately wouldn’t be _that_ difficult, but more than that he needed to get as far away from the Chantry as possible.

He rubbed at his lips and the warmth lingering on them. Kissing Solas might have been a stupid thing to do, but it’d shut him up and he _had_ enjoyed it. He shook his head; that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the dragon and the Elder One. With a sigh he closed his eyes and felt fire well up within him as he stalked through the courtyard in front of the Chantry and hopped down the ledge. Soon the fire surrounded him in a pillar and lifted him as he burned a trail to the very edges of the city. The refugees leaving Haven would think it was the dragon. The Elder One would know it was his target, though, probably.

And there, on the very edge of Haven, as far from the Chantry as he could get in a reasonable amount of time, he waited, his pillar of fire scorching the ground and incinerating any Venatori or Red Templars that came too close to him. Finally, the dragon came, and he let the flames disperse, dropped to the ground as it neared. Something fell from it, and as that something approached Ek’olis realized it was the person with the red lyrium jutting angrily out of his body. It was the Elder One. The dragon itself landed behind Ek’olis, and the ground shook as it did, but Ek’olis kept his attention, the angry fire in his eyes, turned toward the Elder One.

He could end this here and now, he thought.

“Pretender,” the Elder One said, and Ek’olis recognized his accent. He was from Tevinter, and very old. “You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more.” He also clearly had no understanding of who or what Ek’olis was.

“You’ll have to do better than that to frighten me,” Ek’olis said, jaw squared.

“Words mortals often hurl at the darkness.”

_Mortal_ , Ek’olis thought bitterly, but to his credit he didn’t laugh.

“Once they were mine,” the Elder One continued. “They are always lies. Know me. Know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus. You _will_ kneel.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on Ek’olis. Here he was, a man revered as a god through no choice of his own, being told to bow before a man who wanted desperately to _prove_ he was a god. It would be funny if only there weren’t innocent lives at risk.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Ek’olis repeated.

“No matter. I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now.” Corypheus held up a spherical object and - that was an elven orb. A focus. Now, how in the world had an ancient Tevinter gotten his hands on one of those?

Ek’olis’ wondering was cut short as Corypheus reached out, angry red energy enveloping the orb and his free hand. The mark - the Anchor - spat green light and stung, and Ek’olis could feel that it was being pulled on. He frowned, grit his teeth, and pulled right back.

Corypheus hadn’t been expecting that. He faltered, then pulled harder. “It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying you stole its purpose. I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”

Ah, that was it, then. The Anchor was a key to the Fade, to physically enter it. Ek’olis smiled and yanked harder with the Anchor, feeling a certain smug satisfaction in watching Corypheus falter again. The dragon behind him shrieked and Corypheus continued to struggle for control of the Anchor.

“You use the Anchor to undo my work,” Corypheus snarled. “The _gall_.”

“I’ll undo a lot more than just your _work_ before I’m done here, Corypheus,” Ek’olis said, his lip curling. He gave one final tug and pulled the Anchor free from Corypheus’ influence.

Corypheus apparently realized that magical tug-of-war was going to get him nowhere, because he stalked over and grabbed Ek’olis’ arm, yanking him off the ground. “I once breached the Fade in the name of another to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption, dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. _Beg_ that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.”

“Of course it was empty,” Ek’olis said, frowning into Corypheus’ face. He felt magic well up inside him as he called it forth. He couldn’t see the flare, but surely everyone had to be clear of the city by then. “The gods that remain walk the earth.” His magic continued to well up until it should have overflowed, the pressure uncomfortable, and then he let it burst and he and Corypheus were thrown apart. Before Corypheus could get back to his feet Ek’olis had him pinned under a thousand pounds of force magic, and then bound by vines, and then swarmed by fire and lightning.

The dragon shrieked and threw itself forward, bounding over Ek’olis to scoop up the charred body and launch itself into the air. If Corypheus was not already dead, he would be soon. Ek’olis counted this as a win. Corypheus had underestimated him, and he had suffered for it. It was a shame, though, that the dragon had fled with the body. He would have liked to have examined that focus.

As the dragon flew away, it turned sharply and trails of its corrupted flame hit the mountains over Haven, sending an avalanche to bury the city.

“Oh for the love of…” Ek’olis sighed and drew runes into the air in front of him, created a barrier. He couldn’t protect the whole city, not now, but he could make sure he wouldn’t have to dig himself out of potentially miles of snow just to leave. He felt the snow crash against his barrier and spill around him as the avalanche bore down on Haven, and he waited.

It felt like hours before the snow stilled, and when he was sure it was safe to do so he dropped his barrier and enchanted his shoes to stay dry and keep him on top of the snow. When that was done, he drew a few runes in the air in front of him and launched himself out of the little almost-cavern his barrier had created in the snow and he started walking.

Haven was gone. A few poles stuck up out of the ground, their flags missing, and the very top of the Chantry was still visible, but Haven was gone.

He walked.

He walked, and he walked, and he walked until his feet ached, and then he walked some more.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking. Hours, probably. The wind howled around him and snow and ice clung to him. His hair was probably frozen. He wanted to look for signs that the Chantry caravan had passed through, but he knew he still wasn’t clear of the fresh snow from the avalanche. It didn’t help that the loose snow being carried by the wind meant visibility was low, but at least he could navigate by the stars… when he could see them.

Eventually he realized he was tired and all he wanted was to sleep, but he still hadn’t made it to the caravan. He forced himself to keep moving, and as he walked he let himself think about anything and everything, whatever it took to stay awake. He needed to ask Iron Bull about the Qun; he knew next-to-nothing about it still, and if it was going to form in his world it would be nice to understand it at least a little bit. It might prevent conflict. He needed to speak more with Sera. They really weren’t so different, at their cores. They both wanted to help people. It shouldn’t have mattered that Ek’olis was “too elfy” or that Sera rarely spoke in ways he thought were sensical.

He made lists in his mind, formulating plans for what to speak about with everyone when he finally caught up with them. Vivienne and Cassandra and Dorian and Cole and Varric and Blackwall and Leliana and Josephine and Cullen… eventually his mind settled on Solas and he felt his gut twist. He shouldn’t have kissed him! Why had he done that? It shut him up, sure, but there were a dozen other ways he could have shut him up. And he’d called him ‘vhenan!’ Solas had reassured him that he wasn’t uncomfortable before, but there was no way he wouldn’t be uncomfortable now. Ek’olis had likely ruined their burgeoning friendship in this world, set it to flames.

He smelled smoke, and for a moment he thought it was just his mind playing to what he’d just thought, and then realized, no, he _smelled smoke_. He hurried, then, nearly throwing himself forward with every step. At some point the charm on his boots had worn off and he was beginning to sink into the snow. Still, he could see them now, in a valley between two peaks: the campfires of the caravan. He lost his footing and slid down a short slope in his haste, and when he got back to his feet he saw a number of people moving toward him, Solas leading them.

“There you are!” Solas cried out, and he moved faster then.

Ek’olis felt himself relax, felt his gut untwist, and he slid down another short slope, staggered forward, and let himself be caught by Solas. After a moment to catch his breath he looked up at Solas and smiled. “I told you I knew what I was doing.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you. Can you stand?”

“I don’t think so. I think it was all I could do to make it here under my own power, and now I’ve exhausted myself. My legs don’t really want to work.”

“Then you need to rest.” Solas scooped him up and turned back, started down the slope again, his own magic seeping out through his hands to warm Ek’olis’ chilled body.

Cassandra and Cullen crowded nearby, both wanting to make sure Ek’olis was okay and wanting to give him room to breathe. Or maybe wanting to give him and Solas space. Cullen had seen the kiss, after all. Dorian had kept the one in Redcliffe a secret, but it seemed likely that word would spread now. Or maybe Solas had asked Cullen to keep it quiet. Ek’olis tried to calm his mind. It had a tendency to race when he needed to rest. His entire existence had been about moving, moving, moving for so long at such a formative age that now, older and wiser and wearier, he had trouble relaxing when he needed to.

He shouldn’t have kissed Solas. Weakly, he grabbed at Solas’ shirt and tugged on it. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Solas bent his head down and pressed his forehead to Ek’olis’. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Finally, Ek’olis closed his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven has fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha whoops I missed the 15th again. In my defense, I was sick as sick could be. I'm back on my feet now. Spring semester starts on Tuesday. I'm getting some writing in on the later chapters of this project. Not as much writing as I wanted, but it hasn't stalled out, and that's what matters. Enjoy! <3

“You nearly died.”

Ek’olis tried to sit up, failed, and instead turned his head toward Sera. “I wouldn’t say nearly.”

“You were unconscious when you were brought into the camp. I’d call that nearly.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t Corypheus that nearly killed me then.”

“No, it was your own stupidity.”

Ek’olis looked taken aback. He’d nearly killed himself to make sure everyone could get out of Haven safely, and he was being called stupid for it. In a strange way, it was refreshing.

“So, like. Thank you, or whatever.” Sera finally hopped into the cart and sat beside Ek’olis’ bedroll. “You made sure all the little people could get out and you nearly died for it. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for thanks, Sera.”

“Why _did_ you do it?”

“Because it doesn’t matter who I am or where I came from, and it doesn’t matter what anybody else in this Inquisition thinks about it, but an organization like this should be made to serve the people, not lord over them, and if the people are not safe then there is no _point_ to anything else we do.”

“You really think that don’t you? It’s not just flapping lips like all the other bigwigs.”

“Yes, Sera, I really do believe what I say.”

“Enough to nearly die for it.”

“Enough to nearly die for it,” Ek’olis repeated. _Enough to_ actually _die for it_ , he thought, but he didn’t put voice to it.

“Well I’m glad it’s you then, and not some hobnob in fancy clothes. And I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Only nearly dead.”

* * *

Ek’olis propped himself up to half-sitting when he heard someone climb up onto the cart, and he shot a weak smile at Varric.

“You look like shit, Boss.”

“Thanks for that,” Ek’olis said, and laughed weakly. “I overextended myself. Nothing to do but rest.”

“Lucky you. I’m spending most of this trip on my feet to keep an eye out for anything dangerous.”

“Next time you can risk being buried under a mile of snow, then.”

“I take it back. I’m the lucky one.”

Ek’olis laughed weakly again, caught his breath. “How long have we been traveling?”

“Two days. It’s been slow.”

“It’s always slow with a group this large.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Maybe I am.” Ek’olis shrugged. “Maybe I’m not.”

“You’ve been pretty tight-lipped about your history. People wanna know.”

“ _You_ want to know. I’d wager you’re writing another book already.”

“You got me there, Boss. Really, though, your story is going to get recorded anyway. Why not let me do it for you? Get the facts right. Make sure the world never forgets that it was an elven mage who fixed the hole in the sky, not a human with a big sword.”

“Get the fact right with some minor embellishments, you mean?”

Varric just laughed, and they fell silent for a moment.

“Alright,” Ek’olis finally said. “I’m a private person, I’ll grant you that. I’m not telling you everything, but I can tell you some.”

“I’ll take anything you’ve got for me.”

Ek’olis laughed again, soft and weak. “Well… I was a slave in Tevinter…” he started.

* * *

“You were a slave?”

Ek’olis frowned. He had been asleep and then suddenly he wasn’t. He opened one eye to see Dorian sitting beside him. “I was asleep,” he grumbled.

“You’ve been awake for ten minutes. I brought food.”

He had to admit he was hungry. With Dorian’s help he sat up, propped against the back of the cart, and he ate. A little bread, a little cheese, apple slices. They were running out of fresh produce, surely, but everyone had agreed that it was important Ek’olis get some while he was still recovering, apparently.

“You were a slave,” Dorian repeated.

Ek’olis eyed him hard. “Yes, I was.”

“What house?”

“Does it matter? A slave is a slave, no matter who owns them.”

“It does matter.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Some houses treat their slaves horribly and others take care of their slaves.”

“A slave is a slave, Dorian, no matter _who_ owns them. Houses that treat their slaves well can only continue to do so because of the houses that treat their slaves horribly. If there was no fear of abuse, no fear of punishment, the slaves would not _stay_ . _I_ was treated well, though my fellows were not, and at the first opportunity I still left.” He didn’t say he’d taken everyone else with him. A single escaped slave was not necessarily remarkable - it could be passed off as a death - but all the slaves of a house running away would be noted.

“Is running lost in the wilderness with no means to care for yourself really so much better than being a slave in a house that ensures you have food and shelter?”

“Yes,” Ek’olis snapped. “Any of us would rather die free than live in chains, given the choice. Those that say otherwise have been so broken by their masters they cannot think for themselves any longer.”

“That makes no sense.”

“To _you_ , maybe. Have you ever had all your freedoms taken away from you, or even _threatened_ to be taken away from you, even just for a moment, even just in one particular situation?”

Dorian stilled, lowered his eyes, seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

“If you have, then take that experience and extrapolate it. You’re clever. _Be_ clever. Put yourself in the shoes of someone whose freedoms have been stripped from them for their entire life. I was _born_ into slavery and torn away from my parents as a babe. I never knew them. I was raised with no concept of freedom, and _still_ I yearned for it. I didn’t know what it would mean, I didn’t know how hard it would be, but every second of stumbling in the wilderness and trying to survive, trying to find my way somewhere safe was worth it. Every second of it was better than the nightmare that was being subject to the whims of a man who didn’t care for me in any capacity beyond the ways in which I could serve him.”

“I had no idea…”

“Of course you didn’t. And you still don’t.” Ek’olis took a long drink of water before pushing the tin plate and cup back into Dorian’s hands. “You have to accept that you don’t know what people who are not like you have been through. You can’t understand what is in our heads or our hearts, and that’s not a bad thing. It just means you have to listen to us when we say how we feel instead of making assumptions based on your own limited knowledge.”

“I suppose I should have known that.” Dorian looked up at Ek’olis again finally, some sort of sorrow in his eyes. “People have been ignoring what I had to say about myself my entire life, and I just did the same thing to you. I’m sorry.”

“Learn from it. Grow.”

* * *

Ek’olis stirred and opened his eyes to find Vivienne sitting beside him, reading by the light of a candle. When he sat up she looked over and passed him a cup of water.

“Drink, darling. We don’t want you to dehydrate.”

He nodded and took the cup, drank the crisp, cool water. And looked out at the stars. They were still several days from their destination if his calculations were accurate. He’d be back on his feet before then, he thought.

“It’s good you’ve been resting so much. I was certain you would be roaring to your feet, ready to walk yourself to death again the day after Haven fell.”

Ek’olis laughed, still weak, but stronger than he’d been before. “I have been reckless in my past, but I’m not _that_ reckless. I know when I need to stop moving.”

“That’s good to hear. A leader cannot effectively lead if he does not know his limits. Still, you pushed your limits and nearly fell. Weakness is a poor thing to show.”

“I was more worried about getting everyone out safely. A leader cannot effectively lead if he has nobody to lead.”

“Right you are, my dear. I admit it is refreshing to speak with someone who puts the people who look to him for guidance above his own desires.”

“I have to. If I don’t, I’d be like every other politician in Thedas, and then I might as well go to rot.”

* * *

Sunlight hit Ek’olis’ face and he opened his eyes slowly, lifted one hand over his eyes, sat up easier than he had the past few days.

“You’re awake.”

He looked over and found Solas sitting beside him, smiling softly. “Yeah. I’m awake.” He shifted, pulled his legs up under him. “I think I need to get up and walk a little today.”

“I was about to suggest that. You’re looking much better than you have since Haven.”

“I’m _feeling_ a lot better than I have since Haven. I really ran myself ragged to catch up with all of you.”

“What _happened_ that night?”

“I killed Corypheus.”

“Are you sure?”

“There are very few… people or creatures or anything that could survive what I did to him. He wasn’t expecting me to be more than just an elf. I used that to my advantage.”

“But you said the dragon took the body.”

“It did, and it caused that avalanche. I didn’t have the energy left to pursue it. Not after closing the Breach _and_ killing Corypheus.”

Solas reached over and swept Ek’olis’ hair out of his face, his hand lingering as he tucked the locks behind Ek’olis’ ear. “You were on your last legs when you reached us. I’m glad you chose to find us instead of chase the dragon.”

Ek’olis felt his heart leap into his throat. For a moment he couldn’t speak, just stared up at Solas, but eventually he found his tongue again. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“I don’t see how I could do anything else. I told you, I’ve come to value our time together.”

Ek’olis reached up to cover Solas’ hand with his own, hesitated halfway, and withdrew, but twisted around to face Solas properly. “I’m… glad.” He felt vulnerable, open. Admittedly, he _was_ vulnerable and open. Few people saw him this way, and Solas had always been one of them. In either world, apparently.

Solas leaned in a little, then backed away, taking his hand with him. “Walk with me, Ek’olis,” he said, and he stood and climbed down off the cart.

Ek’olis rose and, because he was shaky on his feet, accepted Solas’ help down from the cart. He looked around, saw the cart rattling along next to him, heard chatter from ahead and behind, looked out to the side of the caravan and watched the hart watching him. He crouched, grateful for Solas’ arm still keeping him balanced, and he enchanted his boots again. “I really need to weave an enchantment into these at some point. It’s tiring having to replace it every half a day.”

“Or you could get used to wet boots.”

“I will get used to wet boots the day you stop being a snarky asshole.”

“And here I thought I was your heart.”

Ek’olis straightened up, felt his heart leap into his throat, pulled free from Solas’ hand and started walking. This, he didn’t need. “I think I’ll walk on my own.”

Solas kept pace with him all the same. “I see two problems with that, Ek’olis. The first, you shouldn’t be alone while you’re recovering.”

“And the second?”

“The second… I would like to continue to spend time with you.”

Ek’olis turned around, movements sharp, and stared Solas down. Up. Whatever. He licked his lips, opened his mouth, closed it again, started over. “Don’t do that.” He looked down away from Solas, then back up. “Don’t… make light of what I feel. Not when you don’t… when you don’t…”

Solas’ expression softened and he wrapped an arm around Ek’olis and pulled him in close. “I do not feel the way you do. Not yet. But…”  He seemed to hesitate. “You have the advantage of me by centuries. You know me better than… possibly better than I know myself, and I still barely know you in spite of all our conversations, every night we have spent in the Fade.”

Ek’olis closed his eyes, pressed his face against Solas’ chest and just breathed, just existed. He felt himself relax wholly and completely for the first time in months. It was the first time he’d been so calm since being pulled to this world. And even though he wanted to stay there, he pulled away. “We need to talk about something. Corypheus had an object, a focus, an orb. I don’t know where he got it, but-”

“From me.” Solas let his arm drop away from around Ek’olis as he spoke. “I… gave him my orb.”

“You… gave a Tevinter magister… your orb.” Ek’olis felt his shoulders tense again. “Solas, that was about the stupidest thing you could have done, and I’m… _vexed_ that you kept it from me, particularly after the conversation we had about secrets.”

“I will admit that I am prideful.”

“Your _name_ is pride, tell me something new.”

“I did not have the power, even with my orb, to do what I wanted when I woke. So I left it for him to find.”

“You wanted to let him unlock its power, create the Anchor, and then you were going to waltz in and take it from him when he was on death’s door. Fate threw a wrench in your plans when you arrived and discovered that it was an elf bound with a spirit who ended up with the Anchor. Imagine your surprise.” Ek’olis’ eyes wandered as all the pieces fell into place. “I get it now. You’re staying close to me for the Anchor. If I weren’t me, if I weren’t as powerful as I am, you would need to expend energy to keep me alive while this thing tries to burn its way through my entire body.”

“Ek’olis, that is not why I am staying close to you. It wasn’t even the entire reason at first, and now it…”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you.” Ek’olis shook his head. “And I know that you haven’t changed your mind yet. I know you want to, deep down inside you, but you haven’t yet. You can’t _trick_ me, Solas. I know you too well for that.”

Solas watched Ek’olis, sorrow on his face. “I’m-”

“I told you not to lie to me, so don’t apologize for something you aren’t actually sorry for.”

“I _am_ sorry that I hurt you. I know I should not have kept this from you.”

“But you’re prideful. And pride can be weakness.” Ek’olis sighed. “You once told me - not _you_ you, but… the other you - you once told me that we worked so well together because pride must always be tempered by wisdom, and I am wisdom given physical form. We rely on each other, balance each other. Wisdom and Pride, two sides of the same coin.”

For a moment they only stared at each other, and then Ek’olis took a sharp breath, turned away, shook his head, and started walking again, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut. Every step hurt, physically and metaphorically. From the corner of his eye he could see the hart keeping pace with him, and he could hear Solas’ footsteps behind him. Eventually he stopped again and rounded on Solas.

“If you’re hiding anything else from me that I should know…”

Solas shook his head. “You already know everything else.”

Ek’olis searched Solas’ face, reading anything he could. “If you’re wrong-”

“You’ll open the ground up and push me in and make me wish I’d never woken up.” Solas smiled weakly when he saw Ek’olis frown. “You dreamt about the early years of your time with the me in your world while you were recovering. That was your favorite threat when I was being duplicitous, apparently.”

Ek’olis clenched his jaw and walked to Solas, glared daggers up at him. After several moments, his expression softened and he simply frowned at Solas. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Ek’olis sighed and started walking again. “The question isn’t whether or not you believe that I’m mad at you, but whether or not you _care_ that I’m mad at you.”

They walked on, the silence a weight on their shoulders. Eventually Ek’olis stumbled and Solas threw his arm around him to hold him up. It took work and time, but they made their way back to the cart and, with Solas’ help, Ek’olis got back up into it and settled back down. Solas sat beside him.

“You’ll be back to relying on your own power very soon, Ek’olis. No need for help to go for a walk.”

“Thank you. For… helping me, for keeping an eye on me, for… everything.”

“I do care, for the record, that you’re mad at me. It may be just because we are equals of a sort, or it may be because of our relationship, but I do care.”

“Well,” Ek’olis sighed, “at least you aren’t totally lost to your own guilt.”

Solas nodded almost imperceptibly. “I deserved that.”

“You deserve a lot more than that. However, I am not judge and jury. Not for you.”

“Just my wisdom.”

Ek’olis felt his gut twist and he looked away.

“Well, not just. You’re more than that to me.” Solas reached over and brushed Ek’olis’ hair behind his ear again. “Me, in this world, here and now.”

Ek’olis sighed and reached up to cover Solas’ hand with his own, and this time he didn’t hesitate or retreat. Again, he let himself relax into the feeling of Solas being so near and so warm. He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, exhaled slow. He felt Solas’ forehead press against his for a moment, and then they separated again and Ek’olis opened his eyes.

“Rest, Ek’olis. Recover.”

Ek’olis sighed and shifted, laid down, closed his eyes again. He felt fingers in his hair as he drifted to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old new old castle, a new title, new problems. The Inquisition has arrived at Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actively writing on this again! Which, doesn't super matter because I have so much of it done that there wouldn't have been a break or delay in posting one chapter a month for like... two years, but HEY that's cool.

Ek’olis stood in the main courtyard of Skyhold and stared up at the keep, his gut twisting. It had changed so much since he’d last stood there. Still, it was defensible and it had more than enough room for the Inquisition. That was what mattered. They could even house those who would undoubtedly be arriving later, since the Inquisition was still attracting attention and volunteers.

He sighed and started into the main hall, felt Cole appear beside him.

“It was never exactly like you remember it, not here.”

Ek’olis sighed almost wistfully and nodded. “I know. My world went down a different path, and so my Skyhold was very different.” He traced one hand along the big wooden doors into the main hall all the same, and he wasn’t surprised when Cole slipped away. The main hall was busy, bustling, full of people clearing out rubble and scrap in an attempt to make it usable again. The broken out stained glass windows tied Ek’olis’ stomach into knots as he stared up at them.

“You alright, Boss?”

Ek’olis blinked twice, looked over at Varric. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes.”

“Ah, yes, I’m just… adjusting.”

“I get it. New title, new castle, you haven’t really had a chance to stop and catch up with it all.”

Ek’olis nodded, forced a weak smile. “Something like that. What can I do for you, Varric?”

“See, the thing is, I wanted to talk to you about Corypheus. You told us you killed him in Haven, but his dragon ran off with his body, right?”

“That is what happened, to the best of my knowledge.”

“See, that’s the thing… He might not be dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve fought Corypheus before, with Hawke. We killed him. He was dead. I shot him in the head an extra time to make sure. A few extra times.”

Ek’olis frowned, considered possibilities. “Where did you fight him?”

“He was being held in a Grey Warden prison. We… kind of accidentally freed him, so we killed him. I guess it didn’t stick.”

Pieces were beginning to fall into place. “Varric, were there any Grey Wardens in that prison when you fought him?”

“A few, yeah.”

“Then I think you’re right. Corypheus is probably not dead. I have a theory, but we need… well, we need to know where the Grey Wardens have gone if I’m going to make any headway with it.”

Varric nodded along, then scratched at his chin. “I might be able to help with that. I, uh… well, while we were on our way here I sent a letter to a friend of mine. He should be here in the next day or two, if my math’s right.”

“That’s a start at least…” Ek’olis scowled, deep in thought, then put a hand on Varric’s shoulder. “King Alistair is a Grey Warden, right?”

“I mean, he and his wife left the order to rule Ferelden, but he should still have contact with a few other Wardens if that was your line of thinking.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to talk to Leliana about sending a missive.” Ek’olis pulled his hand back from Varric’s shoulder and sighed. “Later, though. For now I feel like I need to better acquaint myself with the layout of this keep.”

“You haven’t been here before? You were the one who wanted to bring us here.”

“It’s been a long time. My memory of it is not exactly fresh.”

“How did you find this place the first time anyway? This wasn’t an easy trip.”

Ek’olis shrugged innocently. “I stumbled upon it,” he said. “Dumb luck.”

“That’s some kinda dumb luck then,” Varric said, but he seemed to accept the explanation. Or he was pretending to accept it.

From the corner of his eye, Ek’olis saw Leliana leave the rotunda and cross the main hall. “I’ll speak with you again later, Varric,” he said, and he caught up with Leliana. “I have something important to discuss.”

“It’s a good thing we’re heading into a meeting. I was about to send for you.”

Ek’olis just nodded and followed her into Josephine’s office, where Josephine and Cullen were already waiting.

“Good, we’re all here now,” Cullen said, nodding to Ek’olis and Leliana.

Josephine nodded. “We should get right to business.”

“We need to consider the possibility that Corypheus is not dead,” Ek’olis said. “Varric has apparently encountered him before, and helped kill him.”

Cullen scowled. “But you saw him dead.”

“I saw him burning. The dragon took him away before I could make sure he was definitely dead. I have no idea what may have happened after that.”

“How could someone cheat death, though?”

“I have a theory about that, and Varric is helping me make contact with someone to verify it.”

“Who?” Leliana asked, suddenly looking more interested than she had before.

“I don’t know. To be perfectly honest I’m a little surprised you don’t know either.”

“I don’t make a habit of reading personal correspondence without a good reason, and as much as I trust Cassandra, her suspicion is not always a good reason.” She seemed to consider something, then frowned. “If it’s who I think it is, though, Cassandra is going to kill him.”

“What is it you’re trying to verify, Master Ek’olis?” Josephine asked.

Ek’olis frowned. “Varric said he fought Corypheus in a Grey Warden prison where he had been trapped. There were Grey Wardens in the prison when the fight happened, very nearby, and I’m wondering if Corypheus is not unlike an Archdemon.”

Leliana watched him closely, and he could nearly see the gears in her head turning. She had traveled with the Hero of Ferelden. It made sense she might know how the Grey Wardens actually defeated Archdemons.

“The best confirmation I’ll get is to learn where the Grey Wardens have gone, I think. Or, I guess more accurately whether or not they’ve gone to work with Corypheus.”

“But why would they do that?” Cullen asked, brow furrowed.

“Why would the Templars or the mages? If they’re working with him, they probably feel like it’s the only option they have left. Everyone who has been working with Corypheus is desperate. Corypheus himself sounded desperate when I spoke to him. He’s convinced that taking my Anchor or my life is his last chance.”

“Last chance for _what?_ ”

“...to become a god, I think.”

“That’s madness.”

Ek’olis turned his head sharply, stared hard at Cullen. “Did I not just say he was desperate? Desperation will drive people to make the maddest decisions.”

“That’s still no reason-”  
  
“That is exactly my _point_ . There _is_ no reason. He simply has nothing left to lose because he’s already lost everything. Desperation will drive people to make the maddest decisions.”

The room fell silent for a long moment, and then Josephine broke it by shuffling the papers on her desk and clearing her throat gently.

“In that case I feel it would be good to turn our attention toward the attempt on Empress Celene’s life. While we do not have many details on when it will occur, we have an opportunity to gain information and possibly warn her of the threat. A masquerade will be held at the Winter Palace in Halamshiral soon.”

Ek’olis felt his heart leap into his throat. Halamshiral. His eyes stung, but he blinked the feeling away to the best of his ability. “How will we secure an invitation?”

“I’ve been working on that, but it will take some time yet. Until then, we need to rouse support in Orlais. We still have very little, in the end.”

“Then we had better concern ourselves with finding rifts in Orlais to close.”

“We’ve received word regarding that already, actually.” Josephine shuffled through her papers again, found what she was looking for. “Scout Harding and her people have found a number of them in the Exalted Plains that require our attention, and a refugee camp in the Emerald Graves has contacted us requesting a meeting.”

His heart lurched and his gut twisted and he maintained a mask of calm composure through it all. He had been doing enough research to know that these names belonged to places he knew, but they were not the names he knew them by. They were names given to them after the Exalted March that drove his people out of their new homeland in this world. There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he began to speak. “It sounds like we’ll be spending some time in the Dales.”

“So it would seem.”

“Varric’s contact is supposed to be here in a few days. I’ll wait to decide where to go next until I’ve met with them.”

“We cannot act on the demon army until we have more information about how it might come about, so I believe that’s everything that needed discussed.”

Ek’olis nodded, then looked over to Leliana. “I need you to send a letter for me, when you have a moment.”

“Oh? To whom and for what?”

“To King Alistair. Varric is setting up a meeting for me about the Grey Wardens, but he said the King might be able to help as well, just by virtue of having been a Grey Warden and likely still knowing some Wardens.”

“You are right about that,” Leliana said, and Ek’olis couldn’t quite read the look in her eye. “I will let him know you were hoping for information, but you should know that he left the order.”

“Varric told me. He and the Hero of Ferelden left for the sake of ruling Ferelden.”

“And she has been, to my most recent knowledge, on a journey of her own for some time.”

“Our venerable spymaster can’t even find her?”

“She has a way of making herself disappear when she doesn’t want to be found, but I can put my agents to the task if you wish it, Master Ek’olis.”

“That’s probably a good idea… And if we can make contact with Her Majesty, it might be best to inform her of what the Inquisition has been doing, and that we’ve been having talks with King Alistair.”

Leliana nodded once. “It’s possible she’s unaware of what happened at the Conclave. I’ll write something up for her and put people on it right away.”

“Fantastic. Was there anything else?”

“I had nearly forgotten,” Leliana said. “I have information on the woman we saw with Corypheus at Haven. Her name is Calpernia, and she is, according to my sources, the leader of the Venatori. She’s been sending her people to search Elven ruins - for what, I do not know. I propose we stop the Venatori before they find what they seek.”

“I tend to agree. Tevinter’s done enough harm to the Elven people and our history without Corypheus’ help.” Ek’olis frowned. “What do we know about Calpernia?”

“Only that Calpernia is a name from ancient Tevinter legend - an unusual one. She was a priestess of Dumat, and foster mother to the founder of the Imperium. A name like that is meant to assure the Venatori they follow in the footsteps of legends. We must prove them wrong.”

“What else do you have? We can’t just plan to scour every Elven ruin in Thedas; that would take centuries.”

“These Venatori have been shadowing a merchant called Vecinius on Calpernia’s orders. They’ve investigated his finances, surveyed his warehouses. I propose that you meet with Vecinius. Flatter him. Find out what he knows of Calpernia.”

“Vecinius is a Tevinter name.”

“Born in Tallo, although he claims to be from Virantium. He sells rare oils and amber, and prefers red wine to white. He’s unremarkable. I cannot think why Calpernia would care.”

“It’s possible Vecinius is as much in the dark as we are.”

Leliana nodded slightly. “Possible, but it never hurts to eliminate an avenue of inquiry, and we should tread lightly with the Venatori. They have contacts and spies, just as we do. The sooner you speak with Vecinius the better.”

Ek’olis pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have to admit I wasn’t looking forward to wining and dining a merchant, but if it’ll get him to open up about the cultists…”

“He could be a useful ally. Merchants travel, and they love gossip as much as coin. I’ll make arrangements for you to visit his summer home in Val Royeaux. Hopefully your attention should be enough to pique his interest. We’ll have Calpernia’s secrets yet.”

“Good to know.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “On a similar note…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “The man who was standing there is Samson, and we’ve discovered that he leads the Red Templars that managed to slip out of our reach at Therinfal Redoubt.”

Ek’olis frowned. “It sounds like you know Samson.”

“He was a Templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the Order. I knew he was an addict, but this…” He shook his head, scowling. “Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness.”

“I can agree with you on that. Lyrium sings, but red lyrium… sings differently. It’s almost sickening just to hear it.” Ek’olis pursed his lips, then nodded once. “What do you have for me? How do we stop them?”

“The Red Templars still require lyrium. If we can find their source, we can weaken them _and_ their leader. Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it’s being mined. When you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well-guarded.”

Ek’olis nodded again. “Then I suppose I’ll have my hands full for the foreseeable future. Until it’s time for me head out again, we should focus on making sure everyone is as settled here as they’re going to get and securing routes for future caravans. Leliana, after you’ve sent word out to Ferelden’s monarchs, get in touch with our suppliers and allies from before Haven, let them know where we’ve gone and that we’re going to make sure travel is safe. Josephine, I’m relying on you to keep our political allies abreast of the situation and to reassure them that our strength has not waned even though Haven was attacked. Cullen, get your people on those routes. Short shifts and large groups, I don’t want anyone coming back frostbitten or turning up dead.”

A small chorus of agreement filled the room and then Ek’olis turned on his heel and headed back to the main hall. He looked around, tried to ignore the twist in his gut at the broken out stained glass, and crossed to the rotunda, intending to trek up into the library. It had been one of the first things he’d had set up when they made it to Skyhold, and now he intended to make use of it.

Or he had. He stopped short when he found Solas standing in the center of the rotunda staring up at the empty walls around him. He couldn’t ignore his gut twist this time, and it worsened even as he urged himself to go stand beside Solas.

“Considering your canvas?” Ek’olis asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Solas look over at him.

“I suppose it should not surprise me that you know I paint.”

Ek’olis considered the acoustics of the rotunda before he leaned closer to Solas and, voice low, spoke again. “You have painted vast murals in many Dalish cities and in the palace at Halamshiral… and some smaller ones in our home.”

“What have I painted?”

“Dragons, griffons, harts, wolves, the people of the Dales… anything and everything.” He leaned away again and crossed his arms, a gesture meant more to hold himself together than to close himself off. “What will you paint here?”

“...the story of the Inquisition, I think.”

Ek’olis looked up at Solas finally. “You mean the story of the Inquisitor.”

“I do.”

He sighed. “At least I know I’ll be an elf in your story.” He saw something sad flash through Solas’ eyes for a split second. “I look forward to seeing what you paint… Solas.” He had to bite his tongue to keep the word “vhenan” from spilling out.

“I could, if you would like, paint the walls in your quarters.”

Ek’olis arched an eyebrow and inspected Solas’ face for a moment before he spoke again. “When I see my quarters, I suppose we can talk about that.”

“Ah, of course. You’ve prioritized housing all the pilgrims and refugees.”

“It’s hardly right of me to accept the sort of luxurious housing they want to give me when we still have people sleeping on blankets on the floor in buildings with no roofs.” Ek’olis sighed and let his arms fall to his sides again. “Once everyone has a bed, or at least a cot, I’ll let them start clearing out that tower.”

“How selfless.”

Ek’olis frowned again. “Don’t be so cynical.”

“It is a hard habit to break, Inquisitor.”

Ek’olis felt his gut twist again and he turned and walked away. He heard Solas start to speak, but when nothing was said, Ek’olis continued to the stairs and took them to the library. He had a few days before he could really do anything else; he might as well do some research.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here.” Dorian caught Ek’olis’ attention as he pulled books off shelves, inspecting the covers and occasionally flipping through them before setting them to the side. “Oh, this one is garbage.” He tossed the book away from him, toward the railing.

“What-” Ek’olis reached out, forcing magic through his hand so the book stopped short before it flew over the railing. “If you throw one more book I’m going to toss _you_ over the railing. What are you _doing?_ ” He pulled the book to himself and glanced at the cover. It wasn’t anything particularly helpful, not to him, but it would see value in the library all the same.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find _anything_ that could help us identify who Corypheus is.”

“He’s one of the ancient magisters who pierced the Veil and entered the Fade.”

“Yes, but his _real name_. Surely you’re clever enough to know Corypheus can’t possibly be his given name.”

Ek’olis set the book back on the shelf and eyed Dorian. “So you want to find out whether his house still exists. What will you do with the information if it does?”

“Oh, I’m sure I don’t know, but I imagine your spymaster - or even your diplomat - could make wonderful use of it.”

“I’m sure they could. I’m also sure that the book you want isn’t in our library here. I can’t imagine anyone outside of Tevinter having records of what Corypheus’ _actual_ name might have been.”

“You know, I think you’re right.” Dorian almost lit up. “I’d bet you anything that the library in Minrathous would have what we need. We’ll have to send word and… _persuade_ the Grand Archivist to give us what we need, though.”

“Are you proposing gifts or threats of force?”

“Both, perhaps! Ambassador Montilyet is quite skilled with words, is she not?”

“Then I’ll talk to her about it when I see her again. Right _now_ , though, we’re going to put these books back. This library needs to maintain _some_ semblance of organization, and that isn’t going to work if _someone_ is just tossing books around willy nilly.”

“Ooh, _fastidious_. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

“Oh, a compliment of course. Fastidious _works_ for you. It never looked so good on me.”

Ek’olis scrutinized Dorian and started sorting through books. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be allowed the peace and quiet necessary to get any research done.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, this is technically both an AU and an AU of an AU. Ek'olis is a character I am playing in a Dragon Age tabletop game set at the Founding of the Dales, and that game is going to result in a VERY different Thedas from the one presented in the games. The GM has pressured me into writing a fic wherein my character is taken from his world and shoved into Inquisition, and so that's what this is. As of the moment of publication, I have 27 chapters completed. I'm not sure what my publishing schedule will be for later chapters, but have this one for now.


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